


Angels and Ammo

by shellygurumi



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Army, Fighter Pilots, Human Castiel, Infantry, Lap Sex, M/M, Navy, Pilot Castiel, Soldier Dean, War, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-23 14:20:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 91,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shellygurumi/pseuds/shellygurumi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the winter of 1940, Dean, an infantryman on his way to Fort Bragg for training, meets Castiel, a navy fighter pilot, at the Aragon Ballroom in Chicago. After being drawn in by one another, the pair decides to write letters to keep in touch, but with World War II impending, what will become of these two, separated by distance and torn apart by the tragedy of war?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_**17 January, 1940** _

War had been brewing over in Europe for the last few months when the Nazis, as led by Adolf Hitler, had begun committing genocide against the people of Germany and neighboring countries. France, the UK and Poland joined forces to fight Germany, Italy and Japan. People were speaking of it being the next World War. As of yet, America was staying out of it, all the countries in the world still reeling from the last war.

Nonetheless, no man in the armed forces, even in America, doubted the possibility that they would be thrown into the midst of the war. So it was that all service men took advantage of the leave time they were permitted and Chicago was a great place to be on leave. It was a hub of traffic, a key point on the rail lines people of all variety ended up there. Anyone who could spare the time would stop in cross country transit to visit Chicago before passing along on their way.

As it was, Dean Winchester had time to spare on his way to Fort Bragg, North Carolina and a couple nights in the bustling city of Chicago was just what he wanted. Who knew when he would get another chance to walk the streets of the Windy City if they did, in fact, get plunged into war? He didn’t bother packing anything other than uniforms and dress blues and so it was that he strolled along the streets in his casual uniform, the one between combat and dress blues.

It wasn’t uncommon for men to walk through town in uniform, especially Navy men, since the training base was nearby, and the sight would surely just become more and more common in the coming years. They were all being called in, made to train and keep on their toes in case they were sent out to hold locations on behalf of the UK. Even when the United States wasn’t officially in the war, they still had a presence in the form of back up.

All the more reason Dean wanted to enjoy his stay in Chicago. He had plans to visit the famous Aragon Ballroom later that night. Glenn Miller was playing tonight and while Dean most appreciated the dive bars and jazz clubs, it would be a travesty to miss a trip to the Aragon. After Dean finished his leisure time wandering the blustering winter streets of the city, he returned to his small hotel to change into his dress uniform.

The ballroom was the kind of place where you dressed nice, a real upstanding place, and military uniforms always opened doors for you. As he pulled on the final touches and straightened his few decorations, Dean smiled at himself in the mirror, “You’re a fine looking gentleman, Dean Winchester.”

He combed his hair, making sure each strand was perfectly placed, checked his teeth with a broad smile and gave an approving nod. From there, he headed to the ballroom. Women on the street smiled when they saw him. Men tipped their hats. With the uniform came respect and Dean liked that. He was no more than a grunt on the Army line, but he fought for their country. Before long, he would certainly be fighting on the front. It was the thought in the back of many people’s minds, but everyone smiled tonight, still filled with post-holiday cheer and the hope that came with the start of a new year.

Dean arrived at the Aragon Ballroom and received a warm welcome from the doorman, who let him in eagerly. Dean wouldn’t be the only uniformed man in the room tonight, but he might at least be the handsomest. He made his way up the grand staircase, giving pleasant nods to the people milling about who noticed him. He could hear the faint sound of swing music filtering through the building, accompanied by the hum of conversation, occasionally lit with laughter. Following the sounds, he stepped out into the ornately designed grand ballroom.

Couples were dancing in pairs in the middle of the floor, men throwing women about in graceful tosses. Skirts twirled beneath swinging arms. Bright smiles blossomed over everyone’s expressions. The Aragon Ballroom was a place untouched by the outside world, neither the cold nor the war could reach its inhabitants. As long as it stood, grand acts would come to play there. People would come from far to hear them. Glenn Miller was up on the stage leading his brass band in an upbeat tune that made Dean nod his head.

He scanned the room to find people milling about, chit chatting with one another in idle conversation. A woman held the arm of a man, laughing brightly at something he said, flirting. Elsewhere, men joked and jostled one another, drinking amber liquors out of tumblers with ice. Most men were dressed in fine three piece suits, the woman in fancy cocktail dresses. Dean waded through the crowds towards the bar, ordering a drink to sip on while he watched the dancers and tapped his foot to the music.

Across the room, he spotted a small congregation of uniformed men. There were five among them, four of whom were in Navy uniforms. The fifth wore a uniform like Dean’s, though he could tell even from this distance that it held more regalia than his own. Without letting it bother him, Dean pushed off the bar, paid the tender and made his way over to the group.

“Evening, soldiers,” Dean raised his glass with a warm smile and a nod in greeting.

They all greeted him in return, welcoming. The man in the army uniform, more highly ranked than Dean, he now noticed, smiled the brightest, “Ah, evening out the odds for us a bit, soldier! What’s your name, man?”

“Winchester, sir.” Dean nodded formally, but remained at ease otherwise. “Dean Winchester. Always glad to add to our side of things.”

“We still hold the upper hand,” One of the men in the Navy uniforms said, good-naturedly, giving the army man a swat on the chest with the back of his hand.

The men in the group all introduced themselves, names being of little consequence up until the last man spoke in a quiet, deep voice from the back. He was dressed in a different style uniform than the other men, but Dean couldn’t place what it meant at first.

“Castiel Novak,” The man said, giving a curt nod to Dean. Something danced in the back of his eyes, behind that polite, formal expression. Dean couldn’t put a finger on it. It was out of place, though, in this casual atmosphere.

“A pleasure to meet you all,” Dean said, pulling his gaze away from the dark haired man in the naval uniform.

They all resumed their conversation and Dean joined in after a few beats, picking up the topic at hand. He noticed that Novak didn’t say much, reserved and upright as he held his uniform cap under one arm. Dean kept finding his gaze drawn to the man, noticing little things about him, like his fine jaw line, soft looking hair, kind eyes that looked like they would sparkle if the man let himself smile. In short, really, Novak was gorgeous and Dean couldn’t help but appreciate the view.

As the others broke off in separate conversation, Dean moved to stand beside Novak, giving him a little nudge, “You’re Navy, right? What’s the distinction in your uniform? I don’t spend much time outside of army folks in dress blues.”

The man raised a brow at Dean, lips quirking into a half smile, “I’m a navy fighter pilot.”

“Hot damn, you don’t say!” Dean grinned broadly. He gave Novak a once over and an appreciative nod.

“I do say,” Novak replied, glancing away as his smile grew slightly.

Dean’s eyes watched that expression change, his professional mask starting to crack under Dean’s charms. He casually responded, “Me, I’m just an infantryman, nothing special there. But I do alright for myself.”

“You don’t say,” Novak shot back, something akin to mischief dancing in his eyes.

“I do, I do say,” Dean chuckled at the man’s retort and nodded. He stole a glance at the other man's uniform decorations, "So, are you a Captain?"

"No, I'm a pilot," Novak looked at Dean with a confused expression that the army man was trying not to consider adorable.

"I meant your rank," Dean clarified with a point to the bars on Novak's shoulder.

"I'm a Lieutenant. We don't have a Captain's rank as it would cause considerable confusion."

"Right, because ships have captains." Dean nodded, understanding his mix up now.

"A very astute observation," Novak retorted dryly, looking off to the dance floor. The way his lip quirked at the edge made Dean think he was still amused.

“So, you work at the naval base around here?”

“Yes, NS Great Lakes, it’s about an hour north by train. I just got back from the Caribbean last month.”

“You’re already out on missions?

“Neutrality patrol, mostly,” Novak shrugged. “Aboard the _USS Ranger_. They brought us home for the holidays and now I’m training new pilots up at Great Lakes. And you?”

“I’m heading down to Fort Bragg from here, getting trained more than doing the training, though.” Dean hoped he wasn’t out of his league here, but then, that never really stopped him from making friends before.

“And you’re with the infantry?” Novak looked back to Dean.

“Yeah. Yup, they’ll be training me on different guns down there, then I’ll get my assignment.”

“How long are you in Chicago?”

“Tonight and tomorrow. I leave first thing the next morning. Had to hit the Aragon while I was in town, sort of a necessity.”

“You’ve been here before?” the pilot turned to fully face Dean, no longer splitting his attention between the army man and the dancers.

“Not since ‘33 or so,” Dean admitted. “It left an impression, though.”

Novak chuckled, “Chicago was a different place then, things have changed, a lot has happened.”

“Yeah, I guess a lot of the speakeasies are closed now, right?”

“The end of prohibition left little reason for them,” Novak nodded.

“That’s a shame,” Dean frowned and looked off towards the dancefloor in thought. “Hey, do you live in Chicago? I mean, outside of the base?”

“Yes, I live in the area.” Dean could feel the man’s eyes studying him. He turned back to Novak.

“You know any good places? Maybe a jazz club? I’ve still got another day here,” Dean gestured vaguely. Novak looked thoughtful, apparently contemplating the idea. “Just a suggestion would be fine.”

“No, I think I know a place,” Novak interrupted. “Blues is more the thing here, but jazz goes hand in hand with it.”

“Yeah?” Dean raised a brow.

Novak was quiet for a moment. He swirled his drink around, the ice clinking against the glass. When he came to a decision, he gave a small nod, “I could show you.”

“I wouldn’t want to put you out or anything, if it’s too much trouble. But if you’re up for it, that’d be great!”

“No, I’ve got the night off and nothing interesting planned otherwise.” The pilot downed the remainder of his drink and set it on the tray of a waiter passing by them.

“Swell.” Dean nodded, grinning. “So, have you always lived in Chicago?”

Novak shook his head, “No, I grew up further south in Illinois, a city called Pontiac. I moved to Chicago when I joined the navy. Where are you from?”

“The small town of Lawrence, Kansas,” Dean said. “I followed in my dad’s footsteps, joining the army. He served in the last war. It’s kinda the family business. Except for my brother, well, never mind that.”

Novak studied Dean for a moment, his eyes had an intense sort of stare, like he was trying to see right through a man. Dean licked his lips absently under that gaze and shifted. He didn’t question Dean any further, though, instead changing the subject. “I think I was always meant to be a soldier. It feels right, being up in the air.”

“I couldn’t do it,” Dean shook his head.

“No?” Novak tipped his head to the side curiously.

“Planes, man. They crash way too often, I’d rather take a car any day.”

“Cars break down, get flats and all their parts will soon be rationed if we go to war.”

“Well, a train then!” Dean mocked being flustered, but he wasn’t, really.

“Planes are perfectly safe if you have a good pilot,” Novak grinned. “And if all else fails, there’s always the parachute.”

“I think I’d pass on that,” Dean chuckled.

“If you ever change your mind, I’ll take you flying. I’ve never crashed.”

“You some kind of Ace, Novak?”

“Not yet.”

Dean laughed at that cocky response. Just then the music changed, the upbeat swing songs were replaced by a slower, smoother dance. Dean recognized it as “Moonlight Serenade,” a cheesy song for lovers to sway on a dance floor. Men led their ladies out onto the floor with flourishes and pulled them close in their arms and Dean frowned impassively at them all. A couple of girls stood nearby, giggling and giving each other little pushes towards the small group of military men. They were pretty things, but Dean didn’t like where this was going. He cast a glance at Novak, who seemed oblivious.

Finally, the girls came up to them, holding hands and looking shy, “Would you gentleman like to dance?” The first girl asked, both of them batting her lashes.

“Shucks, I’m not so great at dancing,” Dean said, shrugging helplessly and frowning at them.

They wilted instantly and turned their eyes to Novak, “How about you, sailor?”

“Much the same,” He replied with a sympathetic look. Then he nodded to the other men they had been speaking with earlier, “I’m sure they will oblige.”

The girls smiled as best they could, nodded and went over to the others, who whisked them out onto the dance floor with ease. The two wallflowers watched them go but said nothing, remaining silent observers of everyone out on the floor. Dean took a chance then, letting his hand bump casually into the back of Novak’s.

When the pilot didn’t pull his hand away, Dean risked a sidelong glance at him and saw the slight curve of a smile on Novak’s lips. The smile was followed by the brush of his fingers against the back of Dean’s hand and Dean smiled in return. He wasn’t misreading. Subtlety was a necessity for men like them, especially in the armed forces, where being caught out could get you a dishonorable discharge.

It was a dangerous game, but it didn’t change who they were inside. Sometimes the risk made it that much more exhilarating, especially when there was someone you liked who liked you in return. And what was a man who willingly signed up for the military if not something of a risk taker? Dean liked living on the edge and he wondered if Lieutenant Castiel Novak might as well.

The song drew to an end and eventually the evening would as well. They left the Aragon, pulling their coats tight against the wintry chill of the windy Chicago night. Snow flurries drifted around them, flakes clinging to their hair and clothes.

“Have you got anything informal to wear?” Novak asked as they stood on the street outside, impassive to the cold.

“All uniforms,” Dean shook his head, chafing his hands together to warm them.

“Wear the most casual thing you have, then. It won’t be as formal as the ballroom.” He glanced around, “If it weren’t so cold, I would suggest shirtsleeves.”

Dean chuckled, “Can’t do much about the weather. So, about 7:00, then?”

“Yes, we can meet by the train station on Wilson and North Broadway.”

“Is that where you’re heading now?”

“It is,” Novak nodded.

A small group of people walked out of the ballroom, chatting and laughing, drawing the attention of the two service men. They watched the people, then turned back to each other, sharing strained smiles of uncertainty.

“Until tomorrow, then,” Novak said finally, stepping backwards to walk away.

“Til then,” Dean added, watching him go until Novak turned after a couple of steps and walked away. The whole way back to the hotel, Dean couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. It wasn’t really anything to get too excited about, he was leaving Monday morning and in time this would all be a distant memory. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help feeling happy.

 

* * *

 

_**18 January, 1940** _

The train came into the station early and Castiel stepped out onto the street just before 7:00. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his trenchcoat and glanced up and down the street for Dean. It was bitter cold and the wind whipped around him, but Castiel felt warm. A little smile played on his lips as he waited. It had been a long time since he had done anything like this, it wasn’t his typical activity, but Dean had an air about him that made Castiel want to see him again.

He saw that air about the man once again as Dean came walking up the street with a bounce in his step. Even from a distance, Castiel could see the broad smile on the infantryman’s face and it drew a larger smile from the pilot.

“You beat me here!” Dean called out as he neared, his breath fogging on the air.

“You can thank my train for that,” Castiel walked towards Dean, closing the distance between them.

“Damn, it’s cold tonight!”

“And you can thank the Lake Effect for that, come along,” Castiel nodded down the street in the direction from which Dean had come. “The club is a few blocks this way.”

“Alright,” Dean followed in step with Castiel, walking beside him and no more than half a step behind. “This a good place?”

“The musicians are talented,” Castiel explained. Chicago had become a home for blues and jazz artists two decades ago when many of them came up from the Southern states, running from the discrimination in the south and looking for jobs in the north. “The better clubs are on the South Side, but we would have to take a train to get there.”

“Maybe next time,” Dean nodded. “When I come back in the summer.”

“As you say,” Castiel smiled, looking away.

“You don’t believe I’ll come back?”

“Can anyone believe we’ll come back, with war looming overseas?” Castiel challenged.

“Way to be a downer, Novak.”

“Castiel,” the pilot corrected.

“Hmm?” Dean glanced over at him, confused.

“You can call me by my first name,” Castiel met Dean’s eyes.

“Castiel, then...” Dean said, unable to look away from that blue stare until Castiel broke away first, watching the sparsely populated street they walked along.

They fell into a companionable silence, traveling the remaining distance the the club. The wind howled between the buildings, carrying the conversations of other pedestrians on the street. Storefronts and restaurants were closed tight against the cold, keeping in the heat of the radiators to warm the people inside. When they reached the club, Castiel pulled the door open and Dean took a hold of it behind him as the pilot entered. Gritty music drifted out to meet them as they stepped into the hazy room.

Smoke hung in the air, clouding the view to the stage where an older colored man sat with a guitar and a microphone. His eyes were closed and his wrinkled face looked pained as he picked out a song on his whining guitar. His voice howled as he sang the blues, at once both discordant and melodic. Castiel eyed Dean and saw the man searching the room with a grin. He must have liked what he saw.

They found a table off to the side with a good view of the musician. A waitress came to take their order for drinks and the pair of men settled in to listen. Dean watched the stage as Castiel watched him; he seemed to truly savor the music. At the Aragon, Dean had always nodded in time with the beat or tapped his foot.

“You really enjoy music?” Castiel asked, quiet enough not to impose on anyone nearby, but loud enough to be heard.

“Yeah, well, you gotta appreciate a good song when you hear one.” Dean shrugged, glancing back to Castiel. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed. Though he also liked the music, he took greater joy in watching Dean listen to it. There was something about the younger man that held Castiel captivated. It wasn’t just his fine features, the color of his eyes or the build of his body. It was the way he smiled, the way his eyes lit up, the way he moved. Dean was handsome, that was a fact, but what made him stand out -- what made him attractive -- was his personality. A song was just notes and words on a page until the musician gave it life and emotion gave it meaning. Dean was like music and Castiel could listen all day.

They sat drinking and listening as the musician played on into the night. When the time of the last train drew near, Castiel paid their tab and the pair left the club. They wandered down the now empty streets, taking their time returning to the train station.

“Thanks for that,” Dean said after a few paces.

“It was my pleasure,” Castiel replied, smiling to himself. He must have memorized Dean’s face by the end of the night and felt self-conscious now about how long he stared.

“How long before your train leaves?” Dean asked, shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

Castiel pulled his sleeve back to check his watch, “Maybe twenty minutes.”

Dean nodded, but said nothing; they were both thinking the same thing. When they parted ways tonight, the chances were high that they would never see one another again. They were military men, following orders wherever it took them. The past two nights were like a dream in a world where war was looming just on the outskirts of their vision.

They walked on in silence, contemplating the end of their night and their time together. Castiel was lost in thought, letting his feet lead him along the familiar path. It wasn’t until Dean grabbed his hand and gave him a tug that Castiel woke from his revery.

“Dean, what are you--?” Castiel stumbled, nearly yanking his hand away.

The infantryman held a finger to his grinning lips and pulled Castiel into a sidewalk Photomaton. The booth was barely large enough for the pair of them when Dean closed the curtain behind Castiel. In here, they were hidden away. A photo booth had a reputation of being a place where people lost their inhibitions; it allowed anyone inside to get photographs without the embarrassment of someone personally developing them.

“I want a photograph,” Dean said, still smiling and pulled change from his pocket to push into the slot.

“Of... us?” Castiel blinked, surprised.

“Yeah. Sit down,” Dean pointed to the bench and Castiel sat. He could feel a smile forming on his lips.

Dean pressed the buttons to set up the booth, then looked at Castiel, “You ready?”

“Yes,” Castiel managed a small nod. Calming the giddy feeling rising inside him at the spontaneous action.

“Okay,” Dean grinned and pushed the button, sitting back before the first flash of the camera caught them both staring ahead. Dean laughed, “Smile.”

Hearing the word, Castiel smiled before the second flash caught their picture. He didn’t want to say anything, for fear of being caught mid-word and looking strange in the photo. Dean was quick, though, timing his words just right between the flashes.

“Look here,” He said and just before the third flash, Castiel looked at Dean, both of them were smiling.

This time, Dean didn’t have to say anything for Castiel to know what was coming next, he saw it in the infantryman’s green eyes. Dean leaned in, grinning broadly, tipped his head and touched his lips to Castiel’s in a chaste kiss. Castiel didn’t have time to think about it, but if he had, the choice he made would be the same. He closed his eyes and met Dean’s lips, eagerly returning the kiss and ignoring the camera, even as it flashed. The kiss deepened as Dean lifted a hand to hold the side of Castiel’s neck. Scooting closer on the bench, Castiel set a hand on Dean’s thigh and the pair of them kissed with reckless abandon. Mouths crushed together in an urgency born from their short time together and the certainty that they would never see one another again. They both knew the benefit of taking love -- or even just physical comfort -- where you could get it, before it was gone.

By the time they pulled apart, Dean and Castiel were both panting mouths agape and staring into one another’s eyes. Dean grinned, brushing his thumb along Castiel’s jaw and the pilot mirrored his expression, leaning into that hand slightly.

“Well, glad you agree,” Dean chuckled, dragging his hand down Castiel’s neck and over his chest.

“I do,” Castiel laughed in return, nodding. “I do agree.”

They were interrupted when the small strip of photos dropped down into the slot, finished developing and slightly damp from chemicals. Castiel reached out and took the strip, looking at the four small photographs of them together; Dean peered over his shoulder. The photograph of them kissing made them both smile.

“You should keep them,” Castiel said, handing the strip over, careful not to get fingerprints on them.

“We’ll share ‘em,” Dean proclaimed, taking the pictures and gently tearing the top two from the bottom two. He took a moment to consider which set to give Castiel and which set to keep for himself. Saving him the decision, Castiel took the top two, with them looking ahead and smiling, leaving Dean with the pair where they were looking at one another and kissing.

“I won’t soon forget that,” Castiel explained, nodding to Dean’s set. “Keep it well hidden...”

“We should write,” Dean blurted out.

“What?”

“Write... Come on, every military man likes getting letters, right? My little brother, he sends me them.”

“My sister,” Castiel nodded, laughing. “She sends me letters.”

“So we’ll send each other letters. Just so we know...” He trailed off, then cleared his throat. “I mean, how else am I gonna find you in the summertime when I come back?”

“Alright,” Castiel nodded. “Send letters to NS Great Lakes, attention Castiel Novak.”

“Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Dean Winchester,” Dean added. “We should probably get you to the train station.”

Castiel nodded and stood, only to have Dean catch his hand when he rose as well. He tugged Castiel in for one more kiss, shorter this time, than the last. They both smiled into it, like school boys kissing behind the bleachers, and pulled away laughing.

“One for the road, you know?” Dean grinned.

“Of course,” Castiel said and they stepped out of the booth, dropping hands when they were no longer in their safe haven. Out in the public eye again, they walked on as two ordinary servicemen, as if nothing was between them but friendship. Dean escorted Castiel the entire distance to the train station, stopping just outside it and glancing between the pilot and the other few stragglers that ran in to catch the last train.

“Take care of yourself out there. There’s a war on, you know.”

Castiel smiled and tilted his head down, “Yes, there is.” He looked back up to Dean one last time. “Take care of yourself, as well.”

“Until the summertime, then,” Dean said, in echo of Castiel’s words the night before, taking a step backwards without turning away.

“‘Til then...” Castiel responded, wishing he could reach out to Dean one last time. Instead, he held tight to the half strip of photographs and prayed for the best. Only once Dean was out of sight did he enter the train station, to wait for his train to come in. He would write, Castiel decided and he hoped Dean would as well. There was something there, something between them. Perhaps it was fate, or perhaps it was something as foolish as love at first sight. Castiel didn’t know, nor did he especially care to figure it out. He just didn’t want to let it go.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**_2 February 1940_ **

“Mail call!” The clerk shouted as he walked through the barracks, canvas bag slung over his shoulder and wide open. “Haul in!” The men all gathered near to receive their letters from friends and loved ones, Dean amongst them. His little brother, Sam, always wrote him letters, letting him know how things were going back at home and with school. This would be the first one he received at his new station.

Every so often one of the gals or guys he grew up with would send letters, Dean assumed it was more out of some concept of being the “right thing to do” for “those boys defending our borders,” than because they actually cared, so he wasn’t too surprised when the mail carrier handed him a small packet of letters. It had been his birthday recently, and surely that one or two of the letters were sent for that reason. He thumbed through them, looking for the one from Sammy or his mom as he walked away from the clamoring crowd behind him, only to stop dead in his tracks when he spotted the return address of a letter, the name “C. Novak” and the city, “Great Lakes, IL.”

Blinking away his disbelief, Dean quickly returned to his bunk, tossing the other letters on his bed and tearing opening the one from Castiel.

_Dear Dean,_

_Hope it’s warmer in the Carolinas, Chicago is still frigid. The green boys sent here to train complain their fingers are frozen when they mess up drills. I don’t see how it’s an excuse. No one will care how cold your fingers are in the dead of winter on the European front, I tell them. Some of them worry about going to war, others can’t wait to prove themselves. Best we can do is prepare them. It’s February now, only thing they talk about more than going overseas is how much they miss their sweethearts._

_How is your training? Are there lots of kids there? I don’t write letters very well. Anna, my little sister, writes to me. She’s getting her pilot’s license soon. Do you hear from your brother often? Anna always asks if I’m well. I am, I tell her. Are you well? Forgive me for being a poor pen pal._

_Your friend,_

_Cas_

Dean smiled and read the letter over again, chuckling to himself at how Castiel, who held himself so well in person, seemed to babble incoherently in letters. The pilot was a man of few words and Dean wondered if it took great effort to write this letter. Putting Castiel’s letter aside, Dean settled on his bed to read the others from friends and family. The folks back home talked about unimportant things, like who everyone was dating and who just got a job or an automobile. His mom sent him a birthday card with a sweet message that she penned and signed “love mom and dad.” There were a few dollars tucked in there to buy himself a gift.

Sam’s letters were usually his favorite. Dean always liked knowing that his brother was alright, studying hard and making something of himself. Seeing himself as the less brainy of the two, Dean expected his life to be what it was: a soldier serving his country, keeping the people at home safe. He expected more from Sam and was always thankful that in the event of a draft, college would spare him the horrors of war, something Dean hoped his little brother never had to experience.

Dean grabbed a pen and paper to write back to Sam first, the others next. He’d save Castiel’s letter for last, smiling at the nickname, Cas.

_Hiya Sammy,_

_Thanks for the birthday wishes. I guess I’ll let you off easy for not sending me a gift this time. You taking care of mom? Glad to hear that school is good, keep up those grades, Sammy. The new fort isn’t bad, the drill sergeants are rough, but no worse than expected. Some guys are already crying, I don’t know how they made it through basic. How’s that girl Jess of yours? You gonna make an honest woman of her any time soon? Give her a kiss for me, mom too._

_I really don’t know if we’ll be entering the war. They don’t tell us any more about it than you’re hearing in the papers. They’re getting us ready, though, and lots of boys are signing themselves up. But don’t worry about me, Sammy, you know I’ll come home. Gotta take care of your dumbass, don’t I? Say hi to mom and dad for me and tell them both thanks for the card. Don’t stay up too late. Eat your spinach._

_Your ever loving and long suffering big brother,_

_Dean_

Day in and day out, training continued for Dean. He lived by a hard regiment, waking before dawn, running, exercising, learning about the different weapons they would be using in combat. The troops did drill after drill, following commands. In a way, it was like being on a sports team, learning plays to use against the opposition. Only in this game, the opposition had guns and wanted to kill you.

Dean soon found that, as compared to some of the others in training, he was quick to pick things up. He attributed it to just being good with mechanical things. All the weaponry came easy to him and following orders was a simple matter of just doing what the sergeant told you to do. It didn’t take brains to get from point A to point B or to pull a trigger. The one thing he was proud of was his marksmanship. His dad had put a gun in his hands the moment he was old enough to hold one, though his mother hadn’t been too enthusiastic about it. Shooting was something Dean was good at and willing to boast about.

Late at night, Dean was usually tired enough from the day that he didn’t do too much thinking before sleep. The few days after his letter from Castiel, though, Dean found himself thinking more of the pilot than of home. He thought about the cold Chicago night, thought about being huddled in a photobooth, thought about the press of the other man’s lips. It left him warm inside and wishing they’d had time for more. When he did fall asleep, Dean dreamt of mythical summer nights in a hypothetical bed with a very real man who was too far away.

 

* * *

 

**_14 February, 1940_ **

It was late when Castiel left the training range and his group of students, yammering about what they had received from their sweethearts and how pretty their gals were back home. Valentine’s Day was a hard time around the base, between the new cadets lamenting the distance between them and the girls they liked and the boys who had no girl to speak of back home. The men who received candy or cookies would often share, though, which tended to put people in better spirits.

Castiel avoided it all, having no interest in the holiday and, on any other year, no sweetheart, but today he found his thoughts turning to Dean and wondered if his letter got to the infantryman alright. He decided to check the mail clerk’s office in the dormitory where he stayed, just in case. Surely Anna would have a letter for him, anyway.

“Lieutenant Novak, any mail?” He asked, standing at the counter.

“One moment, Lieutenant,” The clerk walked away to check and then came back with two letters to hand over. “Waiting on somethin’ from a gal back home?”

“Only girl I have at home is my little sister.” Castiel shook his head, taking the letters. “Thank you.”

“I got a girl, prettiest thing you ever saw,” The clerk said in a dreamy tone before his face fell and he looked back to Castiel with a silly smirk. “Too bad she thinks I’m a sleaze. So I join the Navy, gals like a man in uniform right? Sure, ‘cept I’m here and she never sees me in uniform! Never writes, neither.”

“Oh,” Castiel frowned, completely baffled at what he was supposed to say to the man. “I’m sorry to hear that. Have a good night.” He made a hasty retreat before the clerk could go on, not wanting to get caught up in yet another man’s lament about love. Navigating the halls of the dormitory, Castiel arrived at his room.

Most single officers lived in apartments off the navy base paid for by a housing allowance, or those with families lived in the houses on base. Castiel chose to live in the dormitories, because having a room to himself was the only convenience he required and one he was given due to his higher ranking. He knew that eventually, his squadron would be called out to missions again and finding an apartment for just a year or so was more hassle than he cared for. Besides which, no matter how small his dormitory room was, it seemed huge compared to the bunks on the aircraft carrier he typically stayed aboard.

Tossing the two letters onto his desk, Castiel pulled out his chair and sat to read them. The clerk’s spontaneous story had distracted him and Castiel forgot entirely about why he checked the mail in the first place. One letter was, indeed, from Anna, the other was from a one Dean Winchester. With a muted smile, Castiel opened the infantryman’s letter first, eager to read it.

_Dear Cas,_

_So, Cas, huh? You never mentioned your nickname before. I like it. It’s pretty cold down in North Carolina, too, but it’s the wet that gets you. We train outside half the time, rain or shine, and it’s almost always rain right now. The boys that are from the south are saying that we should enjoy it while we can, ‘cause in the summer it’s ten times less pleasant with the humid heat. It’s gonna be hot and sticky and not in the fun way. Makes me wonder if the summers in Chicago are anything like the summers in Kansas. They joke here that seasons aren’t a thing that happens, it just goes from hot and miserable to cold and miserable with a week or two between each where the weather is decent for five minutes a day._

_Look at me, talking about the weather in a letter. It’s like small talk in a diner. Training is good, more or less, the sergeants are tough, but it’s to be expected. Sounds like you’re tough on your boys, too. Is flying a thing in your family? The fact that your little sister is getting a pilot’s license is tops! My baby brother’s gonna be a lawyer one day, he’s in college now and going to law school right after. I’m glad, because I don’t want him anywhere near this war. He writes me a couple times a month, it’s always good to hear from him. How often does your sister write? Are you two really close?_

_Think you’ll be sent out again soon? Or will you still be in Chicago a while? It doesn’t look like we’re leaving Fort Bragg any time soon. They still haven’t even assigned us to a division. I’m not so sure I’m the greatest pen pal, either. Seems like all I’ve got to write about is training and the weather, doesn’t look like either of those will change anytime soon. So I guess it’s ‘til the next letter, then._

_Your pal,_

_Dean_

Castiel laughed in recognition of their now-repeated “until then” line. Before even reading the letter from Anna, he grabbed a pen and some paper to reply to Dean. He never had much to say, but just getting word from Dean made him want to write back quickly. He hoped they didn’t lose touch over the war, because there was something about Dean that stuck with Castiel. There was something about the man that he didn’t want to lose.

 

* * *

 

**_22 February, 1940_ **

_Dean,_

_I suppose you could say flying runs in the family. It is expected that we earn our wings. I had my pilot’s license before I even joined the navy. Not sure how much Anna will make use of hers, but she will find a way. In our family, we go from crawling to walking to flying. Is there anything that runs in your family? If your brother is going to law school, he must be quite smart. It’s good that he will be safe at home._

_Anna and I are as close as any siblings tend to be. I must confess, I opened your letter today before even reading hers. She would be very angry with me if she knew that were the case. I hear from her once a month or so. Less often when I am on missions because we only get letters when we come into base. I will let you know at the time, but when that happens, letters should likely be sent to Norfolk._

_I don’t think I will be leaving Chicago any time soon. The whole squadron has been assigned long term jobs training the new pilots. You and I are both stuck in training. And yes, I am tough on the cadets, it’s good for them. The harder we train them, the better chances they will have when they go to war. I believe that’s why so much training is going underway right now. No one is saying anything certain, but it was only a matter of time before the states became involved in the last war, if this one gets much bigger, we will certainly join it as well.  Heaven forbid the Germans decides to make an offensive move and bring us into it._

_It appears that while I’ve managed to write more to you this time, I’ve also managed to write a letter that is rather dark. About the weather – I have never experienced summer or winter in the southern states, however I recently spent the autumn months in the Caribbean. I imagine it was notably more pleasant. Except for the tropical storms. Summers in Chicago are nice. They are hot, but only for a short time. It is a dry heat, but the breeze off Lake Michigan or a dip in the water more than accommodate. It would be grand if you could visit._

_Awaiting your reply,_

_Cas_

_P.S. Yes, with a name like Castiel, you would expect a nickname! Besides, is it possible to be in the armed forces without a nickname? Or is that just us pilots?_

 

* * *

 

_**11 March, 1940** _

_Cas,_

_Good to hear from you again. So you’re a family of pilots, huh? That’s swell. About the only thing that runs in my family is shooting and hitting things, and if you couldn’t tell, Sammy isn’t really doing that. He knows how to shoot and fight probably better than any other lawyer you’ll meet, but I guess he’ll be the guy getting folks like me out of trouble. Dad was in the army as well, not the infantry, though. He was a marine. I didn’t quite score high enough on the tests._

_Sorry this letter will probably take forever to get to you, I wrote that first paragraph a week ago and haven’t had a chance to finish it. Every night by the time training is done and I’ve eaten, I just pass out. It’s getting rough. The boys here aren’t all the brightest and we have to run the drills over and over. Sometimes when someone screws up we get extra exercise drills as punishment._

_I’m looking forward to the next time I get leave. Think I’ll visit the parents and Sammy, see how they’re all doing, then take a train to Chicago. What is your schedule like up there? Do you get all weekends off or do you have to request them? Maybe we can see the sights, you can show me around. I’ll get a hotel downtown, you can stay there with me, you know, so you don’t have to worry about catching the last train back to base._

_Would have written more, but I’m beat._

_Your friend,_

_Dean_

_P.S. I think nicknames are a thing everywhere. Folks here just call me Winchester. I like Cas, though. It’s a good nickname._

 

* * *

 

**_18 March, 1940_ **

_Dean,_

_Don’t worry about how long it takes to reply to my letters. I understand being busy. That’s the upside to having friends in the military, we’re all on the same boat, so to speak. (Though I’m more often actually on a boat, well, don’t call it a boat to anyone in the navy, it’s a ship. To be technical, I’m usually on an aircraft carrier.) In any case, we’re busy up here, too. Sometimes it can be just as tiring to train as it can be to be training, though I’m sure it doesn’t seem that way._

_It’s too bad the World’s Fair isn’t around anymore, because that was quite a sight to see in Chicago. I could show you the lake and go to Navy Pier. There’s Wrigley Field, if you like sports and plenty of museums to visit. And if that isn’t your speed, there are still plenty of jazz clubs and blues houses. If you visit the downtown area, further south than where we were last time, there is a lot more to see and do there and better clubs. Keep me updated on your leave situation, I will work something out. If you find out last minute, send me a cable, I’ll be sure to get it._

_Looking forward to summer,_

_Cas_

The letters from Castiel were becoming the highlight of Dean’s life in training. It didn’t matter how long or short the letters were, as long as he saw that now familiar block script and that they were signed with Cas’s name. It seemed that talk of summer was giving them both a light at the end of the tunnel, though it was more like a checkpoint in the tunnel that had no end in sight. Maybe these letters were just as much a highlight to Castiel as they were to Dean.

Days were long and tiring and it was good to know that Castiel didn’t mind the wait for his reply. Sometimes Dean read the ones from Cas two or three times, mostly because he rarely had the time to actually sit down and write his letters. He could have written in the mess hall where he would at least be more awake, but he preferred the privacy of his bunk at night, where the other guys were too tired to ask any prying questions. Unfortunately, he was just as tired then, too, but well over a week had passed since Dean received Castiel’s last letter on the 17th.

Dean dropped his pen when he finished his letter and sat back, rubbing his hands over his face. Then, lacing his fingers together, he lifted his arms up over his head to stretch out his back. His joints popped and his muscles tensed and he groaned at the ache of it all. Sagging back against the wall, Dean glanced over the letter and shook his head. Did he really just sign it that way? It was foolish, and ridiculous, but he couldn’t scratch it out and fix it without being obvious and he was not about to write the letter over again. His eyes were going crossed as it was, not to mention almost being time for light’s out.

So instead, he folded the letter, still shaking his head, and put it in the envelope, addressed it to Castiel and put it into his trunk at the end of the bed. Tomorrow he would mail it off.

 

* * *

 

**_2 April, 1940_ **

_Cas,_

_I’ll be sure never to call a ship a boat around a sailor. Or you, for that matter. Are you a sailor? Do they train you as a sailor before you’re a pilot? I guess you have to be on the ship. So museums aren’t really my speed, but sports is better. Didn’t your Cubs play in the World Series a couple years ago? Is that who plays at Wrigley or is it the other team? Baseball season just started, they should still be playing in the summer. We could try to catch a game. Is Navy Pier a base up there? You know I’m always happy with jazz clubs._

_I’m a lousy pen pal today, I got nothing to say. I’ve made a couple of friends down here, there’s a guy from Louisiana, we call him Goodman, sometimes, which isn’t his name at all. It’s Benjamin Lafitte, but he likes to go by Benny, but ‘cause we all use last names and people keep saying Lafitte wrong, we call him Goodman, you know, like Benny Goodman. He likes to whistle and it drives us mad sometimes, but he’s good at it and he’s a good soldier. Guess you could say he’s a good man. (I’m a hoot, I know.)_

_There’s a guy named Ashley Harvelle, who insists on being called Ash to everyone who isn’t his superior. He’s real strange, the hillbilly type. You think he’s crazy, but ask any random trivia question and he just spews out the answer. He’s good help on crosswords the guys do in the mess hall. He’s scrawny, too, but that guy can drink you under the table._

_What are the guys in your squad like? What is your squadron, anyway? How does all that work?_

_I make up for boring letters by asking lots of questions. Questions, I can do. I shoulda been a cop, I’d be great at interviewing people. Yeah, I know, going to hit the sack now and stop writing this letter deliriously._

_Yours,_

_Dean_

Castiel touched the word “yours” with his fingertips, as if doing so would uncover some hidden, extra writing, negating the word. Surely Dean hadn’t meant to sign the letter in such a bold way. He was deliriously tired when he wrote it, it said so right above his signature. They were being careful with their words in the letters; Dean invited him to stay in his hotel, but under the guise of not having to catch the last train. The thought of sharing a hotel room with the infantryman still brought a smile to Castiel’s lips. While he wasn’t the sort to be giddy, per se, the memory of a heated kiss in a photobooth still remained clear to Castiel and brought to mind the possibility of more.

Now wasn’t the time to respond to Dean’s letter. It was late and Castiel’s mind was fogged with thoughts of a different nature. Folding the paper and placing it back in the envelope, he hid the letter away with the rest from Dean, then retrieved a half strip of photographs. After undressing, the pilot climbed into bed, taking the photos with him. Blue eyes focused on Dean’s face, smiling in both snapshots. He smiled in retrospect, at the way Dean told him what to do for each shot and brushed his thumb over Dean’s face.

A face he longed to touch now, the way he longed to touch the man just before they parted ways the last time. Summer was a short few months away. It had already been two and a half months since that day. He could wait. Until then, he had his thoughts and his memories. Castiel’s imagination wasn’t vivid, but his hand was strong and certain and though it was too familiar for his mind to pretend it was Dean’s, it got the job done. He rubbed his palm over himself until he was hard and breathing heavily. Then, after licking his palm, he began to pull, twisting his wrist, fingers coiling around his member.

It was fast and dirty and as he came, Castiel bit his lip, turned his head and muffled the sound of his groans with his pillow. Having the privacy of his own dormitory made masturbating to the picture of a man easier, but the walls were still thin enough that he didn’t want his neighbor to know what he was doing at all. He panted as his heart beat wild in his chest and tried to regain his wits. With a breathy chuckle and a furrowed brow, Castiel realized that Dean probably did not have the same luxury.

“I’m sorry, my friend,” Castiel whispered to the darkness of his room. “I will make it up to you, in the summertime.”

 

* * *

 

**_11 April, 1940_ **

_Dean,_

_You did have many questions in your last letter. I will do my best to answer them all. Prior to my training as a fighter pilot, I was enrolled in the Naval Academy, where I learned the same things all cadets learned before entering the navy. I did not receive in depth training for specific jobs on a ship, but I can navigate my way around one. Navy Pier is a pier in downtown Chicago that belongs to the Navy but is more often an attraction for people visiting town right now._

_Wrigley Field is the home to the Cubs and yes, I believe they won the Pennant a couple years back, but lost the World Series to the Yankees. I don’t follow sports much, myself, but it’s always news in Chicago. They go to the series every three years and lose there every time. Our other team is the White Sox, and they play at Comiskey Park. They haven’t been much of a team lately._

_My squadron is called the Red Rippers, our current designation is VF-4 and has been since ‘37. It changes. It’s complicated. We have made a second home aboard the aircraft carrier the_ USS Ranger _. VF means we’re fighter pilots. Being a fighter pilot means I shoot down enemy planes in dogfights. A striker pilot will attack targets on the ground and I would attack the enemy strikers. With the squad, I fly a Grumman F3F biplane, which probably means little to you. They’re ugly, but the top part of our upper wings are always yellow and the tail is always green, those are the colors of our squad’s planes. We are all hoping for a new model soon, preferably a monoplane, the squad has been flying these for four years now. (Monoplanes have one set of wings whereas biplanes have two sets -- I think that’s common knowledge, but in case it isn’t.)_

_I apologize if all of my answers are boring you. The people you befriended sound interesting. Some of the men on my squadron banded together because we all have somewhat odd names. Gabriel is typically my wingman in formation. He’s cocky, likes pranks and has the worst sweet tooth you have ever seen. (I’ve found candy wrappers in the planes!)_

_There’s an Englishman on our squad, too, former RAF. He’s a good pilot and reliable friend, named Balthazar, or Bal for short. Any time we stop on land, we have to keep him from flirting with everything that moves. He’s completely shameless and even winks at men. It gets people flustered, but they say he’s British and let that explain everything away. I almost envy what he manages to get away with._

_They are all good men, but Gabe and Bal are my oldest friends. Like the_ Ranger _is our second home, the squadron is like a second family. We go through much together, as you will with your platoon. This isn’t the direction I intended to take with this letter._

_I think of you often. I wait for summer._

_Cas_

****

Over the next two months, Dean and Castiel continued sending letters, describing their time on base, the people they met, their lives in service. Dean tried to memorize as much of the information about Castiel’s as he could, the color of the planes and the names, Red Rippers and the _USS Ranger_ , because they were things about Castiel worth knowing. Meanwhile, Castiel reveled in each of the stories Dean told and imagined his exuberant voice dictating each letter. He learned of the infantryman’s family, the close relationship he had with his brother and the protective nature of the man.

They made plans for the summer and began counting down the days until they could meet again. It seemed as though time was crawling by, but when either stopped and looked back at how much time had passed, at the same time it seemed as if it had gone by in a flash. By the time final arrangements were being made for the visit, Dean felt as though he were meeting with an old friend he had known as long as any of the guys from home. He felt an air of excitement as he penned one more letter to Castiel and the reality of seeing the man again finally set in. This was really about to happen, all because of a conversation in a ballroom to the tune of Glenn Miller and a kiss in a photo booth to the silence of the falling snow.

 

* * *

 

**_28 June, 1940_ **

_Cas,_

_Looks like this will be my last letter before you see me. I hope it gets to you before I do, or else that could cause some confusion. I’ve got ten days off in mid-July. Saturday the 13 through Monday the 22nd. I will go visit my family in Lawrence before heading up to Chicago on the Friday. Think you can be free that weekend? Whatever we end up doing will be grand, I’m sure._

_I’ll find a hotel when I get there and ring you from there. Or I’ll send you a telegram. You’re still welcome to stay in the hotel with me, if you don’t think you’ll be missed at the base. I don’t know if they do bed checks on lieutenants or anything, wouldn’t want you caught AWOL, you know. But it sounded like you’d be able to get leave, so I’m not going to worry._

_I cannot wait to get out of this humid air down here. It’s as miserable as they all said it would be and it just keeps getting worse. I’m going to pick up some of my civvies from home when I stop there, so I can be casual for the weekend. I got no problems with uniforms, I’m just ready to be out of one for a bit. Hell, I’m ready to have a little fun._

_Until we meet again,_

_Dean_

The letter left Castiel smiling and laughing to himself. He wondered if Dean realized he was quoting that old war song about separated lovers in his signature line. The thought that perhaps he did only made Castiel smile more. They weren’t lovers, of course, they barely shared two kisses, but it was enough to make him wonder. What would happen when he met Dean in Chicago, 19 days from now? Two or three nights sharing a hotel could mean being themselves, out of the public eye. And that could mean all sorts of things for the two of them.

 


	3. Chapter 3

_**13 July, 1940** _

It was nearly 8:00 pm when Dean arrived at the bus stop in Lawrence, Kansas on Saturday. Home was only a few blocks away, so shouldering his pack, he made way to the house where he grew up. A cool breeze and the dry air were a welcome change as he walked along, filling him with nostalgia for home. Careless summer nights of his childhood were spent with his brother Sammy, wandering town, causing trouble or meeting up with other boys in the neighborhood. Those nights were long gone, after life caught up to them, making men of them both. 

Still, it was nice to be back and as he walked in the front door and smelled the fresh aroma of cherry pie greeted him instantly. He dropped his bag in the hall and called out, “I’m home!”

“Dean!” The unmistakable voice of his little brother shouted from the kitchen moments before the giant that was Sam came bounding down the hall. Without a second thought, they both wound arms about each other in a firm hug.

“Hey, hey, Sammy!” Dean smacked Sam’s shoulder a few times, then stepped back and looked him over. “How you doing? Not still growing are you? You’re already taller than me, you giant.”

“I’m grand! Come on in,” Sam chuckled, smiling brightly. He picked up Dean’s bag to carry it for him and dragged Dean into the kitchen, where his mother, Mary, was baking and his father, John, sat at the table, reading a newspaper. “Look who’s home.”

“Dean, how was the trip up?” John, asked, tipping the top of the newspaper down to look at Dean.

His mother did a little turn away from the stove, bringing hands to her mouth in a gasp, “Oh, come here.” She tugged Dean into a hug, standing up on her toes as she hugged him about the shoulders. 

“Hey Dad, Mom.” Dean wound his arms around his mother’s waist, picking her up as he hugged her. “The trip was long, but not the worst. Is that cherry pie I smell?” He pressed a kiss to Mary’s cheek before setting her back down and releasing her.

“It is! But have you eaten anything proper for dinner?” Mary held Dean at arm’s length, hands still firm on his shoulders. Her expression was stern. 

“Not yet, there wasn’t any time to stop for food before the bus came in.”

“Well, I’ve got some leftovers. Let me warm them up for you and you go get washed up.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean saluted to his mom, like he was still in training, which made her giggle and shoo him away. 

“Good to have you home, son,” John said, smiling in a warm way that made Dean feel welcome. 

Sam followed Dean upstairs, carrying the bag up to his old room. “So, is it awful there? I mean, how is it? You haven’t killed anyone yet, have you?”

“What, Sammy, no! It’s training, of course not.” Dean rolled his eyes and went into the hall bathroom to wash his hands and face. 

“Yeah, well, accidents happen,” Sam wore a shit-eating grin and took up a lean against the doorframe, watching Dean.

“Not to me, they don’t, not like that, you little weasel.”

“Hey, who’re you calling little?”

“You, you’ll always be little, even when you’re giant,” Dean back tossed at him, indignantly.

“So how long are you staying with us? It is good to have you home.” 

“Til Friday morning.”

“Then you’re heading back?” Sam was fishing for something here and Dean turned off the water and dried his hands and face before answering.

“You think I have other plans or somethin’, Sammy?”

“Yes,” Sam said outright and crossed his arms over his chest. He waited for Dean’s expectant look and then explained. “You told me in one letter that you were on leave until the 22nd. But then in the next letter, you said you were only staying til the 19th. So... what happened?”

Dean glared at Sam, then pushed past him to get out of the bathroom. 

“Are you keeping something secret?”

“No, Sammy, I’m going to Chicago for the weekend. I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings,” Dean said moving down the hall.

“Didn’t you just go to Chicago? Isn’t that kind of out of the way?” Sam followed after him, tugging Dean to a stop at the top of the stairs.

“I’m visiting a friend, okay? Now I’m hungry, can we leave the questioning for another time?” 

“Okay, alright.” 

Sam let go and Dean went back to the kitchen, where his mother had a small plate of food set out. Rubbing his hands together, Dean took a seat in front of the plate. 

“Oh man, I missed home cooking! Thanks, Mom!” 

“You’re welcome, and you can have pie once you’ve eaten.” Mary kissed the top of Dean’s head, then went about cleaning the kitchen. 

“So, Dean,” John started, folding his newspaper and setting it aside. “How’s training?” 

“Oh, he’s only just sat down, do you need to start with that, John?” Mary asked with a frown.

“It’s fine, Mom.” Dean said around a mouthful of food. He swallowed it down then looked back to John. “It’s good, learning a lot. They’re training us on all different guns, pistols, rifles, couple submachine guns. We got Tommy guns.” Sam and Dean exchanged a grin at that.

“Good. How do you stack up to the other boys?” John asked next, all business.

“I think what your father means is, are you making any friends?” Mary moved behind John, setting her hands on his shoulders and smiling sweetly at Dean.

Dean chuckled, “I’ve made a couple friends, Ash and Benny are my best pals in the camp. Ash is good in tactical, Benny’s big and tough and a good shot. I’m one of the top in the group for marksmanship.”

“Good boy,” John smiled and leaned back in his seat. “Don’t start slacking, though.”

“No, sir, I won’t,” Dean shook his head. He quickly finished off his food and held up his empty plate to Mary. “All done, do I get pie now?”

“Of course.”

“Me too?” Sam piped up.

“Yes, pie for everyone,” Mary laughed, taking Dean’s plate away and dishing out pie for her boys. They spent the rest of the evening chatting about things that were going on around town. Mary talked about the girls who would ask after him that she ran into around town. Sam updated him on any of their mutual friends that he kept up with. John kept quiet, meanwhile, returning to his paper. At the end of the night, Dean went to his room, glad of the comfort of his more familiar bed and the peace of a room to himself. Barely ten minutes had passed since he laid down before Dean was fast asleep.

* * *

_**16 July, 1940** _

Even on vacation, Dean didn’t stop training. He woke early each morning and went jogging through the neighborhood and did a few exercises in the yard. People who saw him around town would wave and welcome him back. Dean tried to avoid getting caught in conversations for too long. It wasn’t that he didn’t like talking to them, it was just that he got tired of answering the same questions over and over. Yes, training was going well, no it wasn’t too hard, no, he didn’t have news of whether they were going to war or not. The girls flirted, asking if he brought his uniform and if it was very lonely at the fort and he always gave his half flirting, noncommittal responses. It was tiring, but he couldn’t ever do anything to stop it, so he tried to keep them all at arm’s length. 

In the middle of the day, Dean was most at odds with himself. There wasn’t much to do except go visiting or sit around reading. Sometimes he would just lay around listening to the radio, catching up on the new tunes or listening to the radio dramas. Whenever a Glenn Miller song came on, though, Dean would get shifty and anxious for the weekend. He didn’t want to miss out on time with his family (or his mom’s cooking), but he wanted to see Castiel again very badly. 

Tuesday evening, Dean was sitting out in the back yard, stretched out on the grass, leaning back on his elbows. Sam came out to find him and took a seat, cross-legged on the grass beside Dean. 

“Hey.”

“Hey, Sammy.”

“Is it weird being back?”

“A little, mostly kind of boring,” Dean chuckled. “I feel like I should be doing something.”

“I get that way, when I’m on break from school.”

“How’s that going?” 

“It’s good, real good. They give us a lot of work, so reading and studying takes up most of my time.”

“Still giving Jessica enough quality time?” Dean asked with a smirk, winking at his little brother, who looked away with what Dean swore was a blush.

“Yeah, shut up.” 

Dean laughed and they were quiet for a moment. When Sam got over his momentary embarrassment, he looked back at Dean, studying his face.

“What is it, Sammy?”

“Are you happy, Dean?”

“I’m happy to be home, yeah.” Dean shrugged, confused. 

“No, I mean... Well, I’ve got Jess, but you don’t... you know, you don’t really ever have anyone.”

“Are we gonna have one of those heart-to-heart brother moments now?” Dean despaired.

“Yes,” Sam smirked, pulling up a few blades of grass to throw at Dean.

“Dad’s not gonna be happy if you ruin his lawn.”

“It’s fine,” Sam rolled his eyes. “Who’s your friend?”

“What friend? You know all my friends here.”

“The one in Chicago.”

“What?”

Sam sighed, exasperated with Dean’s playing-dumb defense, “The friend you said you were going to visit in Chicago after you leave here and before you go back to North Carolina.”

Dean looked down, smiling a little. He wanted to be more indignant at Sam’s insistent questioning, but the thought of going to Chicago compelled a smile. He was happy about going, excited even. Perhaps too excited, because he didn’t really know that everything would go the way he wanted it to, but the possibility of it was too much to ignore.

“It’s someone you like, isn’t it?” Sam said in place of Dean’s silence.

“Why do you say that?” Dean looked up at Sam and raised a brow.

“Because of how you were smiling.”

“Sam...” Dean said in warning.

“Dean,” Sam mocked. “Come on, I’m your brother. I spent my whole life looking up to you, I know all your expressions. Who is it?” 

Dean groaned and dropped his head back, knowing he wasn’t going to get out of this. “Someone I met last time I was in Chicago...” 

“Does the someone have a name?” 

“Does Sam need to know it?” 

“Can’t Sam be happy for his brother?” Sam reached out and shoved Dean’s shoulder, throwing him off balance.

“Cas, okay.” Dean groaned again, righting himself on his elbows once more. He didn’t look at Sam, just out across the lawn. “His name is Cas.”

“Yeah?” Sam asked, curious and smiling.

“Yes, my god, Sam. That is his name.”

“And you’re making a special trip to meet him?” Sam smile turned into a teasing grin now.

“Am I going to have to punch you? You know, I’m stronger now than I was when I left. And you may be a giant but you’re still scrawny, so don’t make me beat you up.”

Sam only laughed in the face of Dean’s threat. “What’s he like? What does he do?” 

“He’s a fighter pilot in the navy and a lieutenant. He does training up there for the new pilots coming in when he’s not out on missions. He’s alright.”

“He’s more than alright if you’re going up to meet him.”

“I-- He’s...” Dean flustered and clenched his teeth for a moment. “I’m not gonna-- He’s nice to be around, okay? He’s good looking and kinda different.”

“Different how?” Sam drew his brows together.

“Just... he’s quiet. He has a different way of talking.”

“What, you mean like he thinks before he speaks and doesn’t make an ass of himself?” Sam smirked. “That must be different, to you.”

“Yeah, not something you know a whole lot about either,” Dean said, shifting his weight to one arm so he could shove Sam with the other.

“Hey, when I’m a lawyer, you won’t be able to win any arguments with me anymore!”

“I’ll win the ones with my fists.” 

Sam laughed, which made Dean laugh as well. When they settled, Sam leaned back on his hands and they both looked up at the sky. There was a moment of quiet between them and it was like old times, when they were young and spent those rare moments just staring at the stars.

“I’m happy for you,” Sam finally said.

“Yeah?” Dean asked quietly.

“Yeah. Of course.” 

Sam was the only one who knew about Dean’s preferred choice in partners and Dean was forever thankful for his acceptance. More than that, he could also trust Sam to be silent on the matter. Not even their parents knew, though maybe they suspected. They asked him about girls and, just like with everyone else, he shrugged and made excuses or played it off. People around town assumed that with his good looks and girls fawning on him that he was probably the kind of guy who just never committed to one girl. 

He let the rumors circulate, because it was easier to let people assume he was a playboy than to try to convince them otherwise and risk being caught in his real secret. It was nice to be himself with at least one person, and even though he played at being annoyed by the questioning; it was the one moment he could be like any other guy. 

* * *

_**18 July, 1940** _

It was Thursday evening and Dean was leaving town in the morning. Mary arranged for a nice dinner to see him off. Sam invited Jessica to join them for dinner, so Dean could see her one more time. She was over early, helping Mary in the kitchen while the men sat idly talking in the den. When dinner was ready, Sam helped Jess set the table and they all gathered to eat. 

“This week went by so fast,” Mary said, placing her hands on Dean’s shoulders and giving a squeeze. “I can’t believe you’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Shucks, Mom,” Dean patted her hand. “I’ll be back again.”

“Oh, I know. I just miss you. My boys have grown up so fast.” She smiled at Sam and Jess, who sat leaning towards one another and smiling. Releasing Dean, she took her seat between John and Dean. 

“It was nice having you home for a bit, though,” Sam chimed.

“Well, it was good to be here, you know I always miss you guys.” 

“I’m glad I could see you before you left,” Jessica said, smiling at Dean. “I worry so much at the thought of you going overseas. Sam keeps me updated.”

“Thanks, Jess, but you know me, I’ll be alright.” Dean grinned at her. He always did like Jessica, she was sweet and kind and absolutely perfect for Sam. 

“Can’t stop a girl worrying,” She said, shaking her head.

“Nor a mother,” Mary added.

“Oh, girls, stop coddling him,” John rolled his eyes and nodded to Dean. “He’s a big boy with a good head on his shoulders, he’ll be alright.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Dean had to smile, it wasn’t often he got compliments from his dad, but when he did, he knew the man meant what he said. 

Dinner was served, so they all began eating, murmuring compliments to Mary for her fine cooking. Conversation turned to idle chatter about what was going on around town and in the world. A few words were spoken on what was heard about German action in Europe and how astonishing it was that someone could be so apparently evil. 

“If they’d have me, I’d go back,” John said, cutting into the meat on his plate.

“John, it’s bad enough worrying about one of my boys!” Mary said, bringing a hand to her chest. “And you’ve already served.”

“I made it home fine, didn’t I?” John gestured to himself and Mary sighed. Jessica and Sam shared a look with each other, smiling and Dean watched them. He knew one day the two of them would be married and fawning and worrying over each other. It made him happy.

“So, Jess, how’s the bank treating you?” Dean asked, changing the subject.

“Oh, very well! It’s a nice job to have. They give me good hours,” Jess smiled warmly at Dean.

“She’s being modest, she’s the best teller there,” Sam said.

“Sam, stop...” Jess blushed.

“Nah, I’m sure Sam’s right,” Dean grinned. “If I had time in the morning before my train, I’d stop by your bank just to see you in action.” 

Jessica laughed and looked down at her plate. “You boys...” 

Dean and Sam shared a smile. They all loved Jess and thought of her as part of the family already. It was only a matter of time before they were married, whenever Sam got the gumption to ask for her hand. Everyone knew she would say yes. Sam met Jess when they were juniors in high school. After spending nearly the entire year tutoring her in history, he finally got the nerve to ask her out on a date. They went to the county fair, he bought her ticket and an ice cream, and they had been sweethearts ever since.  

After dinner, the girls cleaned up while the John went into the den to listen to the evening radio programs. Sam hovered around, chatting with Jessica until she told him to make himself useful drying dishes. Dean leaned in the doorway to the kitchen, watching his family, his happy brother, loving mother and set-in-his-ways father. He had joined the army to follow in his father’s footsteps, but Dean knew that protecting these people, his family, and hundreds of thousands of families like his across the country, was the real reason he served. If the war ever came to their home, Dean wanted to know that his family was safe. He would do anything to keep them safe. 

Jessica laughed at something Sam said, then spotted Dean leaning there watching. “Well, mister, are you being a fly on the wall, there?”

Dean chuckled and shrugged, “Just watching... Gotta make the most of it, you know.”

Her face softened into a bittersweet smile, “It’s a shame you have to go already.”

“They don’t give us much time, you know. This was a lot, really.” He caught a look from Sam and the small smile that accompanied it.

“He’ll be back again before we know it, sweetheart.”

“I know,” Jess said. “Do you have any other plans for tonight, Dean?”

“Nah, I’m probably going to turn in about now, I have to be up pretty early tomorrow.”

“Alright, well, let me give you a kiss before you go!” Jessica dried her hands and walked over to him, arms out.

“You watch yourself, now,” Sam warned, pointing a spoon he was about to dry at Dean.

“Not a chance,” Dean grinned at Sam, then pulled Jessica into a big hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. She laughed, squeezing her arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheek in return.

“You be safe, Dean, take care of yourself and write often! Sam keeps me informed of all the letters you send him.”

“I will, I will, I know,” Dean gave her one more squeeze, then let her go. She went straight back to Sam’s side and he draped an arm around her small shoulders. “Goodnight everyone.”

Mary came over to his side, set a hand on his shoulder and stood on her toes to kiss his temple, as she always did. “Goodnight, son, I’ll see you in the morning before you leave.”

“See you in the morning, son,” John called from the den, waving a hand as his version of goodnight.

Sam gave him a hug and a handshake, “I’ll probably be asleep when you leave. But take care, and have some fun.” He met Dean’s eye with a meaningful stare and a warm smile.

“Yeah, Sammy, I will,” Dean nodded, smiling back. He squeezed Sam’s hand then pulled away, going up to bed. It was going to be long night of anticipation and Dean hoped he would be able to fall asleep. Tomorrow he would see Castiel again.

* * *

_**19 July, 1940** _

Dean left Lawrence at the crack of dawn and spent half the day on the train ride to Chicago. By the time he got to the hotel, it was early afternoon. He was tired from the ride, but happy to be there. Chicago was hot, but no worse than Lawrence had been and both were a far cry better than the humid south. He just wanted to check in and get a shower before seeing Castiel.

“Hello, sir, how may I help you?” The clerk at the desk smiled politely at Dean.

“I’m checking in, name is Dean Winchester.”

“Alright, Mr. Winchester,” the man checked his files, made a few notations, then moved to the set of keys hanging on the wall. “You’ll be in room 205, will you be needing both keys?”

“Yeah, please.”

“Of course,” both keys were taken from the hook and handed over to Dean. “Will you need a bellhop to help you bring your bags up to your room?”

“Nah, I can manage. Thanks, though. There is one thing, do you have a public telephone? Or can I send a telegram?” 

“Certainly, Mr. Winchester, you can use our courtesy telephone right there.” He gestured to a phone at the end of the desk.

“Thanks.” Dean smiled, hauled his duffle bag up onto his shoulder and picked up the phone. After a moment, it connected to the operator.

“Operator, how may I direct your call?”

“Great Lakes naval base, please. I’m trying to reach a Lieutenant Novak.”

“One moment, please. I’ll connect you.” The woman’s voice said through the receiver.

Dean waited, rocking on his feet, nodding his head and chewing on his lip. He glanced around the hotel lobby, tapped his finger against the phone and waited. He took a slow breath, tried to remain calm, and waited.

Finally, there was a click and a ring, another ring and another click.

“Great Lakes Naval Base, Aviation, Ms. Yates here,” a woman said through the phone. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi! Yes, hi! I’m looking for Lieutenant Novak? He’s a fighter pilot, training new recruits?”

The woman laughed, “Yes, I know. One moment please.” There was a brief pause, then she was back. “He should be here in a few minutes. Can you wait or would you like me to take a message?”

Dean tapped the phone’s receiver against his head for a moment, closing his eyes and thinking. “I’ll wait, I can wait.”

“Alright.” The woman said, followed by a quiet thud: the sound of the other telephone being set down on the desk. Dean turned around and leaned back against the counter as he waited again. It couldn’t have been more than a minute or two, but standing there doing nothing, it felt like forever. He nearly jumped when he heard Cas’s deep voice through the phone.

“Lieutenant Novak.”

“Cas!” Dean’s voice was barely audible at first, so he cleared his throat and started again. “Cas, hey... It’s Dean. I just got to the hotel and checked in.”

“Dean, great.” The smile in Castiel’s voice was clear through the phone. “Which hotel?”

“The Allerton Hotel on Michigan Avenue. Room 205, I’ve got two keys. You can head over whenever you’re free.”

“I took leave for today, I’ll be on the next train down.”

“Swell, just come up to the room and knock when you get here, then we can hit the town.”

“Alright. See you in a couple hours.”

“Looking forward to it.” Dean said with a broad smile.

Castiel chuckled through the phone, “Until then.”

“Yeah, see you soon, Cas.” Dean hung up the telephone and smiled to himself. Picking up his bag, he headed to his room. The first thing he wanted to do was get a bath, so he wouldn’t have train funk when Castiel arrived. 

The hotel room was nice: two beds separated by a nightstand, a small table and chair, and a bathroom with vanity. He dumped his duffle bag on one of the beds and laid out his clothes. His suits had gotten creased on the journey, but that was expected and fortunately the small closet by the bathroom contained a courtesy ironing board and several hangers. After picking what he would wear for the night, he headed to the bathroom.

Dean plugged the drain in the bathtub, turned on the water and undressed while he waited for the tub to fill. He realized this was the first time he had been alone anywhere for months. Thoughts of Castiel hopefully sharing the hotel with him later that night quickly filled his head. He imagined the pilot in that bathtub, lounging out, hair damp at the ends. Maybe one arm would drape over the side of the tub, his shoulder relaxed and neck exposed. 

“Man, it has really been a long time, hasn’t it?” Dean laughed at himself. But the fact remained that the sight would be a welcome one. Any image of Castiel undressed was welcome in Dean’s mind, and so he let his imagination run free, picturing what kind of a body was beneath those clothes. Was he tan or pale? Lean or muscular? How strong were those arms of his? How big was his package? Dean glanced down to check himself out, smirking a little, because size wasn’t something he ever worried too much about. 

Once the tub was full, Dean turned off the tap and climbed in. He was thorough about bathing, but didn’t linger any longer than necessary. His hair was given a quick wash, as well; he wanted to look good for Cas. After the bath, he drained the tub, dried off and styled his hair. Dean liked to keep it neatly combed to the side, like the current fashion. He had some time to kill before Castiel showed up, so spent the time unpacking and ironing his clothes. 

* * *

When the knock came at the door, it was early evening and Dean was finished ironing his clothes, which were now nicely hanging in the hotel closet. He was smartly dressed, not in his uniform, but in a pair of dark grey slacks, undershirt, and a white dress shirt, sleeves partially rolled up his forearms while he waited. His suit jacket was set aside on the bed along with a grey fedora Sam had given him for his birthday. 

Rubbing his hands against his slacks, Dean cleared his throat and moved to answer the door. There was Castiel, standing in the hall and smiling. He had a garment bag in hand and wore a suit similar to Dean’s, except his jacket was on, despite the heat. 

“Hello, Dean.” 

“Heya, Cas. Come on in.” Dean stepped back and held the door open, gesturing for the pilot to enter the hotel. A sort of giddy feeling rose in his stomach, causing a smile that couldn’t be wiped off his face if he tried. “Closet’s right there, if you want to hang up your stuff.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said, moving into the hotel. After seeing to hanging up his suits, Castiel took in the hotel room, then turned to face Dean. “So, this is our room.”

Dean nodded, putting his hands in his pockets. It never occurred to him that, after all this time, they wouldn’t know how to act around each other. Their first meeting was such a spur of the moment series of events that they never stopped to think about what they were doing. This time, it all felt very serious and deliberate.

“Yup. Uh, there are two beds... We don’t have to use them both, though, unless you want to.” Dean said, gesturing to the beds, then scratching the back of his head. 

“Good to know.” The amused smile on Castiel’s lips told Dean that the man noticed the awkwardness between them as well, but wasn’t fazed by it.

“Yeah, so, you want to go out? Get some din--” Dean started to suggest, only to have Castiel grab him by the front of his shirt and yank him forward. The pilot laid a kiss on Dean’s lips, raising his other hand to hold the side of Dean’s face. Once Dean was over the shock of the sudden motion, he smiled and quickly returned it, his hands settling on the small of Castiel’s back, pulling them flush together. 

They kissed for a long moment before Castiel pulled back enough to rest his forehead against Dean’s and smiled. He chuckled quietly, opening his eyes to look into Dean’s in an uncharacteristically shy way.

“Well then,” Dean said, arms still wound around Castiel’s waist.

“I’ve wanted to do that for months.” 

“Oh, I definitely understand that.”

“That is a relief,” Castiel smiled and straightened, leaning back to look at Dean properly. 

“So, uh, did you want to get dinner? Or were you planning to stay in tonight?” Dean raised a brow and flashed a smirk at the pilot.

“Staying in is tempting, but I believe hunger will get the best of us both, especially if we remain active.” He ran a hand down Dean’s chest, fingers lingering at his stomach before he pulled back entirely and out of Dean’s arms. 

“There’s a lounge upstairs, if you want to check that out? They might serve food up there. Did you want a shower or to change or anything before eating?” 

“The ride wasn’t long. Let’s go to the lounge.” Castiel gestured to the door, “Is now good?”

“Yeah,” Dean rolled his sleeves down, buttoning the cuffs before putting on his coat and fedora. He grabbed both room keys, handed one over to Cas and led them out of the room. Apart from the occasional, and not entirely accidental, brush of hands or arms against one another, they acted as any two men would together. 

They rode the elevator car up to the top floor of the hotel and found the lounge half full of people. It was Friday, but still fairly early in the evening for folks to be out at clubs or lounges. Most people were likely waiting for the sun to go down and the city to cool off. The maitre-d showed them to a table not far from the stage where a pretty, young lady in a long gown was singing popular tunes of the day. 

A waiter came by soon after to hand them menus and take orders for drinks, a scotch for Dean, a gin and tonic for Castiel.  They sat listening to the singer for a moment, but Castiel soon turned his attention to Dean. 

“How was Kansas and spending time with your family?” 

“Good! Yeah, real good, actually. I got to relax for the first time in forever,” Dean chuckled. “I got a little stir crazy, but there are worse things.”

“That’s good. Your brother and the rest of your family was doing well?” 

“They are, yeah. Have you heard from you sister lately?”

“Yes,” Castiel nodded and smiled fondly. “She was complaining recently about how it is unfair that women can’t enlist.” 

“She seems like a real spitfire,” Dean chuckled.

“She is, absolutely. When you meet women like her, you have to wonder if they shouldn’t let them enlist as anything other than nurses.” 

“That’s some progressive talk, there, Cas.” Dean laughed. “But I know what you mean.”

“Anna will find a way to do something, I’m sure of that.”

“Here’s to Anna, then, and the fighting spirit of the Novak family,” Dean lifted his drink in salute, waiting for Castiel to do the same before sipping from his glass.

“To us, and to those who tolerate us,” Castiel said, looking right at Dean.

Their food came after they drank and the conversation fell to the wayside; they made small comments about their meals as they ate. The food was alright, if not spectacular, but both men enjoyed their beverages more. During dinner, they ordered a couple rounds, but by the time they were done eating, Dean suggested they head back to the hotel to catch up. When Cas agreed, they paid and left.

On the way back down to the room, Dean was feeling a healthy buzz from his drink, just enough to make him smile a little more easily and sling his arm around Castiel’s shoulders without worrying who they met along the way. The halls of the hotel weren’t particularly crowded, though, and no one was there to see them make the trek from the elevator to their door. Castiel’s fingers were deft as he fished the key from his pocket and let them into the room, with Dean hovering close behind him. 

Inside they were alone, utterly closed off from the rest of the world and all the people who would sneer at their union. Words like “sick” and “pervert” and “wrong” were left out on the streets, far away from their ears. The only words they could hear now were their own. 

Castiel turned around to face Dean, looking up at him and smiling in a way that Dean could only describe as wanton. The room key was dropped, left forgotten on the floor in the entryway along with Castiel’s coat, pushed off his shoulders by Dean’s roaming hands. Their lips met in a warm and wanting kiss, halting their progress to the bed. Castiel’s hands were at Dean’s cheeks, holding his face still as they both parted lips, tongues exploring each other’s mouths. When the kiss broke, they were both panting, eyes half-lidded and lips curved up in smiles that said they wanted more. More of that and more than just kissing. 

“That definitely got the blood flowing,” Dean said, voice throaty with desire. 

Castiel didn’t say anything, he dropped one hand to grip the front of Dean’s shirt and pull him along towards the bed. His other hand lifted to steal the fedora off Dean’s head, placing it on his own. 

“That is not fair, Cas.”

“What isn’t fair, Dean?” Castiel’s rough voice had a way of making anything he said sound sexy that, along with everything else, was not making anything easier on Dean.

“You looking better in my hat than I do isn’t fair.” 

Castiel chuckled, rich and deep, and shook his head. He pulled Dean the rest of the way to the bed and pushed his jacket off. They stopped at the end of the bed, less than a foot apart from each other. Castiel’s hands worked open the buttons on Dean’s shirt, from throat to waist, then pulled the tails out from his pants. Fingers hooked under Dean’s suspenders, sliding up to his shoulders and tugged them off as well, to hang at his hips. 

Dean stood there, watching the serene expression on Castiel’s face as he undressed him. He pulled his arms free of the suspenders and shrugged off his shirt. The white undershirt fit tightly across Dean’s broad chest and left his muscular arms bared. Castiel ran his hands along those arms, his long fingers curling around Dean’s biceps and giving a little squeeze.

“Like what you see?” Dean asked, grinning.

“I do,” Castiel nodded, stepping forward to close the small distance between them and brought his lips to Dean’s once again. They kissed slower this time, heads tilted in opposite directions and mouths working against each other. Dean slid his hands around Castiel’s waist, stopping on the small of his back, palms flat against the soft material of his shirt, and pulled their bodies flush against one another. 

They didn’t need to rush; nothing was about to end. For now, they had all the time in the world to learn each other, the taste and scent and feel of each other’s bodies, and they were going to make the most of it. Castiel slid his hand up to Dean’s neck, his fingers catching on the chain of Dean’s dogtags, tugging it up a little. When Dean broke their slow kiss, he trailed his lips down Castiel’s jaw and to his neck, causing the pilot to tilt his head back, eyes still closed, and heave a broken sigh of want.

Dean’s hands busied themselves with getting Castiel out of his shirt, so he could have more skin to touch and taste. As he stripped Castiel of one more layer, Dean spread his hands across Castiel’s chest and down to the hem of his undershirt. He slipped his fingers under and slowly pulled it up and off, causing Cas’s perfectly combed hair to dishevel a little. Castiel was tanned, his chest and arms made of lean muscles and his stomach was smooth. His own dogtags hung at the center of his chest. It took a moment for Dean to realize he was staring, but when he looked up he caught Castiel grinning at him.

“Like what you see?” He asked, copying Dean’s words, but his voice was full of lust.

“Oh yeah,” Dean nodded and moved Castiel backwards until his knees hit the foot of the bed, forcing him to sit. He would then find his lap full of Dean, who straddled him and began kissing along his shoulder and collarbone. Dean could feel Castiel was getting hard, which only served to make him want the man more. He kissed every inch he could reach and Castiel worked to get Dean’s shirt off, breaking the stream of kisses and leaving them both bare chested. 

A devious smile crossed Castiel’s lips and he reached up to grab at Dean’s dogtags, using them to pull him in closer and crushing their lips together in another kiss. Dean liked the way Castiel wasn’t afraid to take charge and held Castiel’s face between his hands as he returned that kiss. Everything about this moment was more than Dean could have asked for. He wanted Castiel more than he ever had during those months apart.

They shifted their way up to the head of the bed, laughing when they bumped noses, trying to keep the kiss going during the move. Finally, they settled, with Castiel on his back and Dean straddling his hips, leaning over and continuing to kiss the planes of Castiel’s torso. Cas’s hands found purchase in Dean’s hair, pulling at those short strands as he arched his back in response to Dean’s lips. 

“It’s been so long,” Castiel breathed out, his eyes falling closed again, mouth hanging open.

“Tell me about it,” Dean said before biting at a nipple, reveling in the sharp intake of breath from Castiel.

“I want you...” Fingers tightened in Dean’s hair, giving enough of a pull to get Dean to look up. Castiel’s eyes were dark and his expression was full of need. “I want you.”

Dean smirked, moving back up to press a hard kiss to Castiel’s lips, pushing him back against the pillow. Castiel met it with equal fervor and nearly growled when Dean broke it. He murmured against Castiel’s lips, “I’m all yours, Cas.”

“Then I suggest we get the remainder of our clothes off, promptly.” Castiel kissed Dean again, then bucked his hips up a bit. Dean groaned as he felt the hard length of Castiel’s shaft through the layers of their trousers. 

“Couldn’t agree more,” Dean gave Castiel one more hard kiss, then lifted himself off the smaller man. His hands went quickly to pulling Castiel’s trousers open and down over his hips, socks and shoes and whatever else covered him would follow suit. Castiel leaned back on his elbows and watched as Dean removed the rest of his own clothing, everything was tossed aside with little care. Now free of clothing, Dean took a place beside Castiel, one hand on his stomach, leaning in to kiss at Castiel’s neck. “How’s this?”

Castiel smiled and gave Dean a shove, pushing him down onto his back, taking a place on top of him. He moved a leg between Dean’s, making them open to make room for himself. In a bedroom deep voice, he said, “This works for me...”

“Oh, so you think it’s gonna go like that, huh?” Amusement danced in Dean’s eyes as he looked up at Castiel, hooking a leg over the other man’s hip.

“Well, I am older,” Castiel shrugged, smirking down at Dean.

“Yeah?” Dean raised a brow and wrapped his arm about Castiel’s waist, rolling them over so he had Cas pinned beneath him, straddling him once again. “Well, I’m taller. And stronger.”

Castiel sat up, propping himself up on palms pressed into the bed, “Oh, if you prefer to do it sitting in my lap, I can manage that." He spared one arm to wind around Dean’s waist, then shifted his hips, shaft rubbing suggestively against Dean’s ass. 

Dean groaned, eyes falling shut. He’d be lying if he said that didn’t feel damn good. At this point, he had gone so long without sex that he didn’t care which way it went, as long as it felt good. So he nodded, “Yeah, okay...”

“Did you bring any KY?” Castiel asked, placing kisses along Dean’s shoulder now, brushing his nose against the crook of Dean’s neck.

“Yeah,” Dean huffed a laugh, caught out in expecting to have some fun sharing a bed with Cas. The slightest tinge of color touched his cheeks. “Under the pillow.”

Castiel smiled and kissed the space beneath Dean’s jaw, then let himself drop down against the bed. He slid a hand under the pillow until he found tube of KY, then flexed his abdominal muscles to sit back up again. Dean wound an arm around Castiel’s back, helping haul him up, “You’re gorgeous, you know...”

“I think your cock is doing the talking,” Castiel said, but kept on smiling. Blue eyes focused on his hands as he squeezed lube out into his palm. 

“So what if it is?” Dean smirked, glad he could see Castiel get flustered by the compliment, if only in an understated way. “Now I thought you wanted to have your way with me.” 

“Then I will do just that.” Castiel kissed Dean. He reached behind Dean and began working him loose. Dean’s head fell backwards, mouth agape and he pushed himself back onto Castiel’s fingers, giving as much as he took. Soft groans worked their way out of his throat between hissed gasps.

“Oh, that’s good...” Dean managed, rocking his hips. 

Castiel grinned, lips pressed against Dean’s neck, teeth brushing against the supple skin, where small beads of sweat began to form. He teased, “With age comes experience.”

The laugh Dean let out was gruff and throaty. “Because you’re so very much older than me... Now give me something more than your fingers.”

Castiel wrapped his free arm around Dean’s waist, shifting him up into the proper position. He angled his own shaft beneath Dean, slick with the lubricant. Dean pushed himself down onto Castiel’s cock, groaning again with pleasure. It had been quite a long time for Dean, so he took it slow, but it was a great feeling, all the same. Castiel’s head dropped to Dean’s shoulder, his arm tightened around the infantryman. 

They held the position for a moment, Dean breathing slowly as he adjusted to the feeling. Castiel ran his hands over the length of Dean’s back, soothing him. Dean brought his hands up again, cupping the side of his face and neck. Their lips pressed together, mouths open, breathing each other in more than kissing, tasting each other’s air. As soon as Dean was comfortable, he began grinding against Castiel. Pushing his legs against the bed, Dean controlled the pace. It didn’t matter that Cas was the one doing the penetrating, Dean was taking the lead. Castiel’s hands found their way down to hold Dean’s hips, keeping some semblance of control, as well.

Their eyes met and the corner of Dean’s lips turned up. “Fiesty, huh?” 

Castiel grunted as he bucked his hips up, thrusting into Dean. His eyes, darker now as they filled with lust, and nearly glaring, caught Dean’s eyes and he smirked, “I guess we both like being in control.”

“What makes you think I’ll give it up?” Dean teased, sliding his hands down to Castiel’s shoulders and pushing him down onto the bed. He arched his back and began riding Castiel harder, causing the pilot to moan out. 

As soon as Castiel regained his composure, though he still panted as Dean road him, he lifted his head, watching the the line of Dean’s torso as it moved up and down. He released one of Dean’s hips and took a hold of his cock instead, long fingers curling about it and pumping. It threw Dean for a loop and he gasped, dropping his chin to his chest. The pace of his strokes slowed and changed motivation as he now tried to thrust into Castiel’s hand instead of impale himself on that hard, long cock.

Castiel took the opportunity of Dean’s momentary distraction to bend his legs, plant his feet against the mattress and thrust into Dean. The other man let out a hard grunt and his arms gave out. He pressed one forearm across Castiel’s chest, the other arm ended up beneath a pillow. After managing to catch his breath, he looked into Castiel’s eyes and found teasing amusement dancing in them.

He didn’t have words for the moment, instead he smiled broadly and kissed Castiel for all he was worth. The pilot’s mouth opened for him, greedily taking that kiss. Whoever was in control after that didn’t even seem to matter, they both thrust and groped and kissed with more passion than either had felt in years. It was fun and fantastic and Dean loved every moment of it. The breathless kisses, the way they were both covered in sweat in the hot night of that Chicago summer, and the way his chest felt tight and a pit formed in his gut, as he felt that imminent climax, all of it was perfect. But nothing was more perfect than the man beneath him, with his long, dark, disheveled hair, his piercing blue eyes so full of emotion, his wry, cocky smile and great body. Both of their voices had gone gravel-deep as they grunted and moaned, moving ever closer to coming and Dean couldn’t handle the sound of that voice in his ear any longer.

He spared a hand to begin stroking himself while Castiel’s hands were busy bruising his shoulder in a hard grip and pulling at Dean’s hair. He huffed and panted before clenching all his muscles and letting out a low groan as he came over Castiel’s chest. The pilot kept thrusting into him, hard and fast, all through Dean’s climax, his eyes shut tight and hands gripping even harder until he came a moment later. 

Castiel went limp against the bed, breathing heavily as Dean collapsed on top of him, face buried against Castiel’s neck. Neither man said anything, taking the moment to catch their breath, but Castiel refused to release Dean’s shoulder, choosing instead to keep him close. When they could finally breath evenly again, Dean placed a few kisses to Castiel’s neck, then lifted himself up a bit. He propped his head on an upturned palm and planted his elbow against the bed beside Castiel and just looked down at the other man.

Blue eyes searched Dean’s face before brows drew together in confusion, “What?”

“Just wondering how you look after great sex,” Dean said, grinning.

“Oh, is that it?” Castiel smirked, not missing the compliment. “How do I look, then?”

“Sated, cocky,” he hummed in thought, then leaned down to brush his lips against Castiel’s. “Kissable.”

Castiel laughed into the kiss, but returned it just the same. They shared lazy kisses until Castiel had to pull out of Dean and they both moved to get cleaned up. Both men were a little wobbly on their feet and laughed more when Castiel nearly lost his balance on the trek to the bathroom. Standing before the mirror, Dean surveyed his shoulder and shook his head, “You’ve got quite a grip on you, you know that?”

A handprint was left at the top of Dean’s left arm and Castiel inspected it, then shrugged, “Just means you’re mine now.” He placed a kiss to the bruise before grabbing a washcloth to clean his chest.

“Guess I am,” Dean grinned and stole a kiss from Castiel’s lips. 

Once clean, the men returned to the bed, pulling the covers aside and climbing into it. They didn’t bother with any blankets other than the top sheet and curled up against each other. The night was still hot but for now they would bear it, just for the sake of staying close. Dean laid out on his back and Castiel used his right shoulder as a pillow for his head, laying on his side next to Dean. One arm stretched across Dean’s chest and his hand rested on the bruised shoulder, making Dean laugh. He wound his arm around Castiel and hugged him.

“Yeah, I know, I’m all yours, Cas.” It was the second time that night Dean had said it and it made him feel warm in a way he wasn’t used to. He tipped his head towards Castiel and placed a kiss on his forehead. Spent and happy for a brief moment in their lives, the men closed their eyes and let sleep do the rest of the work for the night.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally going to cover both July 20th and 21st, but I got a little carried away, so I split them up. But because of this, the next chapter will hopefully be up sooner than later. Sorry for the long wait on this one! I hope you enjoy it!

**_20 July, 1940_ **

There was something wonderful about waking up beside a lover, feeling their body pressed close, the rise and fall of their chest and the comfortable weight of their arms. It was a rare sensation these days, for both of them, and Castiel didn’t want to disturb the moment until it became absolutely necessary. When he woke, he breathed deep and slow, taking in Dean’s scent. He smelled of musk and sweat in the hot Chicago morning, in a pleasant way, rather than odorous. If Dean was awake, he showed no sign of it, his breathing was still even, his head lolled to the side, facing Castiel.

Dean was an incredibly handsome man, especially when he smiled, bright and bold and care-free, but in sleep, his features looked delicate and fine. He was almost pretty, Castiel thought, and smiled to think such a thing of a soldier. Though he wanted to let the man sleep, Castiel couldn’t help himself as he tipped his head and brushed his lips along Dean’s. The soldier’s reaction was slow and lazy, first his arms curled tighter around Cas, drawing the pilot in, then he smiled and stretched, as if realizing just where he was.

“Morning,” Dean murmured, his eyes still closed. He pressed his forehead against Castiel’s and sighed sleepily.

“Good morning.” Castiel’s voice was rougher than usual first thing in the morning. He cleared his throat and brushed his nose along Dean’s cheek. “Do you have any interest in breakfast?”

Castiel felt kisses trail down along his cheek and teeth graze over his shoulder. Dean grinned before he spoke, lips brushing against the crux of his neck, “Depends on what’s for breakfast, I guess.”

“You certainly can’t eat me,” Castiel chuckled and shivered at the same time.

“You wanna bet?” Dean grinned. He shifted, holding himself up on one arm beneath Castiel and lifted his body so he could lean over the smaller man. Mischief glinted in his green eyes and Castiel met the look with an even stare and raised brow.

“I don’t doubt that you could do any number of sexual acts that might constitute eating in some way, but it wouldn’t slake your hunger.”

“It would slake one kind of hunger,” Dean said, kissing at Castiel’s neck, throwing little bites into the mix as he did so. Try as he might to protest, Cas found himself closing his eyes and pressing his head back into the pillow.

“You’re a menace, Dean Winchester.” He laughed softly and it turned into a gasp when Dean bit at his collar bone. “Last night wasn’t enough...?”

It took Dean a moment to respond, too busy lavishing attention across Castiel’s skin. “I’ve got one weekend to last me God knows how long. I’m going to make the most of it.”

“That is sound logic, soldier.” Castiel nodded, running a hand through Dean’s hair, then down to hold the back of his neck.

“Damn right it is, Lieutenant.” The biting and kisses continued, attention moving to Castiel’s nipples. He waited until Castiel was hissing at the bites and moaning at the flick of tongue before finally moving on. Lips trailed down his torso, teeth biting at his sides, hands pinning Cas to the bed. He was firm and certain, full of confidence in this and it made Castiel’s heart beat a little harder in his chest. Cas’s own lips were parted, his eyes closed as he took in each of Dean’s touches.

When lips reached Castiel’s hipbones, the pilot let out a needy moan. He tightened his grip on the back of Dean’s neck, willing him to move that talented mouth to a more useful location. “Dean...”

“Yeah, Cas?” He could feel Dean grinning against his pelvis. His tongue darted out to lick a trail along the line of his hip, dipping down but not quite reaching his cock.

It was involuntary action when Castiel’s hips lifted slightly. It was less involuntary when his hand guided Dean towards his cock, “If you want to eat some part of me, I’ve got one for you right here.”

He was already growing hard from Dean’s attention. A warm mouth wrapped around his cock would be a welcome addition to the morning’s activities. Dean smirked against his hip and placed more teasing kisses all along the path to his dick before finally licking a long line from base to head. Castiel let out a long, low moan in appreciation and loosened his grip on Dean’s neck, letting the man take charge of pace.

Dean’s tongue swirled around the head of Cas’s shaft before he began sucking, bringing him fully hard. Castiel was quiet by nature, but in this he wanted Dean to know he was appreciated. Soft sighs emanated from his throat with interspersed hitches of breath as Dean found a sensitive spot. The solder made pleased noises, akin to chuckles, whenever Castiel gasped. Heady though he was from the pleasure, it made Cas smile.

Hitching one of Castiel’s legs up over his shoulder and urging the other leg to the side, Dean settled on his knees between them as he started to bob his head, taking Castiel’s cock into his mouth over and over again. He kept one hand wrapped possessively around the thigh at his shoulder and the other hand pressed against Cas’s pelvis, holding him against the bed.

Castiel was undone shamefully quick, reduced to short, panting breaths at the expertly fast way Dean was sucking him. He presumed the soldier was used to clandestine sexual acts up against walls in the shadowy alleys of nearby clubs. Quick was the way of it in those cases, as much pleasure as one could get before being caught. There was something thrilling about it all, the frisson of excitement that spread through a man’s body could heighten the pleasure and even become addictive. Castiel was no stranger to those activities in his teenage years.

As he fisted a hand in Dean’s hair, Castiel began grunting and giving small thrusts of his hips. He kept pace with each pass of Dean’s mouth, felt the mounting pleasure pool in his body as Dean drove him towards climax. Dean sucked faster and harder, leaving behind the added little flicks of his tongue that brought Castiel hard in exchange for the moves it took to make him release. And Castiel did, groaning out Dean’s name in warning before letting the orgasm reel through his body. Muscles contracted as he came, spilling his seed into Dean’s waiting mouth and Castiel felt the younger man drink it down greedily. Dean lapped it up and sucked him dry. Castiel laughed breathlessly as his body twitched and spasmed after the orgasm.

“Wow... That is a hell of a way to wake up,” he said, his chest heaving for air in the aftermath.

Dean grinned and kissed his way up Castiel’s body, laying on top of him. He folded his hands over Castiel’s chest and rested his chin on them. “Best breakfast I know.”

Castiel lazily combed his fingers through Dean’s hair, smiling at him, “Though I imagine it won’t be enough to sustain you until lunch time.”

“That’s what the hotel breakfast buffet is for.” Dean closed his eyes and tipped his head towards Castiel’s hand.

“Isn’t there some manner of dress code involved?” He studied the younger man’s face fondly, wanting to remember that serene look that calmed Dean’s features.

“Probably.”

“Come then,” Castiel began, going in to kiss him.

Dean’s eyes flashed open and he grinned broadly before stealing command of the kiss, pressing Cas into the bed. “I believe you already did that.”

With a laugh, Castiel pushed Dean off himself and onto the mattress beside them. “I was going to say, come then, let’s go get washed up.”

As Castiel climbed out of the bed, he heard Dean groan lazily, still lying in bed, “You’ve got quite the stamina.”

“I’ve got quite the desire to bathe and you seem to have gotten lazy during your week away from training,” Castiel teased over his shoulder as he strolled, unabashedly buck naked, towards the bathroom.

There was a moment’s silence while Castiel moved into the bathroom and began drawing a bath, then the springs of the bed creaked and Dean padded his way over to the bathroom as well. He stood, leaning in the doorway, watching Castiel. The pilot ignored him, or pretended to, anyway, and pulled his razor and shaving cream from a small pouch he’d packed. He watched Dean watching him by way of mirror as he shaved the morning stubble from his chin and neck. It struck Castiel again just how gorgeous Dean was.

The infantryman was young and well built with an air about him that put Castiel at ease instantly. Dean’s shoulder was propped against the doorframe, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. His expression was one that Castiel could only describe as fond as he rested his head on the frame, watching, occasionally letting his eyes skim down over Castiel’s body. Cas wasn’t shy, by any means, and every time he glanced in the mirror and saw Dean’s eyes had strayed from his reflection to his ass, it made Cas smile.

“Like the view, soldier?” Castiel wiped his razor on a cloth and glanced over his shoulder at Dean, before drawing the blade carefully over his chin again.

“I could do with a painting of it, something I could hang on my wall, look at any time.”

Castiel chuckled and shook his head, “You’d have a difficult time explaining that one to the other men in your bunker.”

“More like I’d have to keep them from stealing it for themselves.” Dean smirked and met Castiel’s eyes in the mirror.

“Best paint a picture in your mind instead, then.”

“Oh, I’ll hold onto the memory of this for a long time.”

Castiel smiled and looked down into the sink. To distract himself, he rinsed his razor and closed it, setting it on the sink. After wiping his face, he stepped over to the bath and turned off the faucet. “The sink is yours.”

Dean pushed off the doorframe and sauntered towards the sink. He wore an easy grin on his face that said he knew just how he had affected Castiel, despite the pilot’s attempt to be inconspicuous. Trying to ignore this, Castiel slid into the bathtub, relaxing back into it with closed eyes and a soft sigh. Meanwhile, Dean began lathering up to shave his own shadow of a beard.

“Do you ever miss baths?” Dean asked and Castiel opened his eyes again to watch the soldier.

“Sometimes. The showers at the base are efficient, but it is definitely pleasant to take my time and relax.”

“Yeah, I took a lot of baths when I was home this past week. Sammy made fun of me, said I spent longer in the bathroom than Jess,” Dean laughed.

“Jess is his fiancee, right?” Castiel grabbed a washcloth and began cleaning himself properly, rather than just soaking, nice though that was.

“Girlfriend, but they might as well be engaged. They’ve been going steady for years and we all treat her as part of the family. I’ll personally kick his ass if he ever splits up with her.”

Castiel chuckled, “I take it you really like her.”

“Aw, I love her. You would too, it’s impossible not to love Jess, and she’s perfect for Sammy.”

“Then I hope one day I have the privilege of meeting her, and your brother.”

“He questioned me on you,” Dean admitted quietly, glancing at Cas in the reflection once again.

“Did he?” Castiel looked up from where he had been focused on washing his arms.

“Yeah... He knows, you know, about me and he figured out that I fudged how long I was on leave for... He’s a smart kid, so it didn’t take him long to figure it out.”

Castiel blinked and considered his words before speaking, “Did it... go over well?”

“Oh, yeah!” Dean laughed, breaking the tension he had unwittingly created. “Yeah, no, Sam is tops, he’s alright with the whole thing. He was yanking my chain... Apparently I smile when I talk about you.”

Now it was Dean’s turn to look down and avoid Castiel’s gaze. The pilot was smiling at this revelation that Dean did not intend to share. Castiel considered letting it slide, but he wasn’t quite as considerate as Dean was, concerning embarrassing admissions. “Is that a fact?”

“It’s... uh... yeah, I guess it is. Been awhile since I’ve felt this way, I guess.” Dean shrugged as if it was nothing, but Castiel smiled knowingly. He knew very well, because it was the same for him.

“This world we live in is full of pain.” Dean looked at Cas as if he was crazy, but Castiel pressed on, “Two wars of worldwide proportions, the Depression, the Dust Bowl, all within one lifetime. With so much suffering and so many hardships, why shouldn’t we smile as often as we can? I’m loath to give up something that makes me feel this way... The way I feel around you.”

“Cas...” Dean shrugged, perhaps trying to downplay the statement.

“Dean. I’m only saying I’m happy here.”

“Yeah... well, I’m happy seeing you wet and naked like that,” Dean joked and Castiel laughed, letting the moment pass. Finished shaving, Dean wiped his razor and set it near Cas’s then moved to sit on the edge of the tub. He reached one arm across the width of it, planting a hand on the wall for balance and leaned forward. Their lips met in a light brush against each other and both men smiled.

Castiel leaned in a little closer, lifting one wet hand to hold the side of Dean’s face. He kissed the soldier properly, fully and deeply. Their lips lingered in that kiss and Castiel could tell that even though he made a joke, Dean liked this feeling just as much as he did. The kiss wasn’t fevered and passionate, it was slow and soothing: a kiss of great care and affection. Perhaps what had blossomed between them was love, perhaps it was something less than that, time would tell if they were lucky. What mattered is that there was something there, something very deep and worthwhile.

* * *

Dean and Castiel finished washing up eventually and dressed for the day. As Dean was fixing his tie, he smiled over at Castiel, watching the man fastening the buttons of his shirt. "What have you got planned for us today, then?"

Castiel turned his attention to Dean, “I supposed we could wander around Chicago, see the lake, get some lunch, whatever appeals to you.”

“Sounds good.” He laced his shoes, pulled on his jacket and waited for Castiel to do the same. They both chose suits of soft brown today, though Castiel’s was darker than Dean’s. He couldn’t help but notice that Castiel looked as fine in a suit as he did in uniform and Dean drank up the sight. Remembering this weekend was important and Dean didn’t want to let any of the details pass him by. Castiel tucked in his shirt, buckled his belt, adjusted his suspenders and pulled his own coat on.

When Castiel looked up, Dean was already watching him. He flashed a smile at Cas, who smiled back with a roll of his eyes, “Watching me dress?”

“Not as much fun as watching you undress...” Dean shrugged, stepping forward to take Cas’s jacket in hand. He pulled the man closer and tipped his head down until their foreheads were touching.

“As I recall, you were assisting in the process.” Castiel tipped his head, brushed his lips across Dean’s smooth jaw line.

“Can’t really blame me, can you?”

“Perhaps not.”

“Perhaps?” Dean chuckled, sliding his hands under Castiel’s jacket, over his shirt and around to the small of his back. He pressed their bodies flush. Cas closed his eyes and hummed.

“No, I suppose I can’t blame you.” Lifting his head, he placed a firm kiss to Dean’s lips. The pilot’s hands lifted to Dean’s chest, pushing him away after the kiss. “But we should spend at least some of this weekend outside the hotel.”

Sighing heavily, Dean consented. After one more quick kiss to Cas’s lips, he brushed out the shorter man’s jacket and fastened the top two buttons. “Alright, let’s hit the town.”

“But first, breakfast. The edible kind.”

Depositing room keys and wallets in their pockets, both men headed out of the sanctuary that was their shared hotel room. It was another hot summer day in Chicago, but it was still early, before the sun had a chance to do its worst. The hotel offered a quaint little breakfast on the first floor in the dining area, where overhead fans spun lazily to keep the air circulating. They dined quickly on eggs and toast with jam, then left to stroll the streets of Chicago.

Out on Michigan Avenue, Dean gestured for Castiel to lead the way. He took them south around the campus of Northwestern University, then East towards the rising sun and Lake Michigan. Despite the early hour, people were out in their finest clothes; women were about with shopping bags, men were smoking cigarettes and talking to friends, families were going about their business. The students from the university were nowhere to be seen, presumably asleep on their morning off. A few servicemen were on the streets in uniform, perhaps out on leave, just as Dean and Cas were. They both smiled and nodded in greeting.

After only a few blocks, they reached Lake Shore Drive and they had only to find a pedestrian crossing for the wide and busy road before Dean found himself on a beautiful grassy strip of land right beside the Great Lake.

“There’s a trail here, they call it the Lakefront Trail, it begins here at Navy Pier and goes on for miles north.” Castiel explained.

Dean stood, staring out into the vastness of the lake and the orange rays of the morning sun glinting off the surface of the water. Though the pier was within sight just to the right of his view, beyond that was nothing but blue, all the way to Michigan, a full state away. “This is gorgeous.”

“It is,” Cas agreed and Dean could feel the man’s eyes on him. He turned to look at the pilot.

“So are we going to walk the trail?”

“Not just yet, we’re going to the pier first.” With that, Castiel started them south, the wind off the lake ruffling their clothes and sending Cas’s tie fluttering over his right shoulder. Dean smiled again and jogged a couple steps to catch up. He kept his hands in his pockets, but occasionally bumped his shoulder into Castiel’s. Compared to the city streets, the trail was empty and they could walk alone for now.

The pair strolled through the grassy lawn just in front of the pier, taking in the sights before entering the large front doors. It was like walking into a great, long courtyard, with red brick walls that stretched the length of the pier out into the lake. Two towers stood above the walls flanking the entrance. Shops and restaurants lined the interior like some sort of western adaptation of a bazaar.

“Wow, this is massive.” Dean whistled as he gazed around at all there was to see.

“It is.” Castiel nodded. “I don’t know if you had any intention of shopping, but it can’t hurt to look.”

“Window shopping on our first date?” Dean whispered away from passers-by.

“And here I thought the first was the photobooth,” Castiel grinned, glancing away.

“A fair point.” The concession was worth it for the way Castiel looked at once shy and mischievous. It was odd to see any hint of shyness in Cas’s face; the man always appeared confident and somewhat aloof. But in private moments, sometimes Dean could spot the look on the Lieutenant’s face and knowing that he put it there was all the better. “And, of course, last night counts as well.”

“It certainly should,” Castiel laughed. Dean smiled all the more.

They walked on, occasionally stepping into shops to see what was for sale, but neither man bought anything. A little past ten, they stole a seat at a cafe to sip coffee and watch people go by. Castiel took his coffee with a dash of cream while Dean took his black. They sat quietly, as families walked past, children holding the hands of their parents, skipping between them. Bright, smiling faces were on all. Dean set his mug down and gestured to one such happy family across the way.

“This is why I enlisted,” He said.

Castiel followed his gaze, then looked back, “This?”

“These people. The children, the mothers and fathers... Although I followed my dad’s lead, I guess I always knew I would be a soldier. But I had my own reasons, and this is why. To keep these families safe. To protect our country. So that maybe these kids can grow up in a world where they don’t have to worry about war.”

From the corner of his eyes, Dean could see Castiel bow his head and he looked over to see the pilot frowning.

“If we fight in this war, if we win, will it ever be over? Or will we find the children of this generation are just fighting in another after us?”

Dean looked thoughtful, then asked, “Why do you fight, Cas?”

“I train those who want to fly how to keep themselves alive.” Castiel said with a tilt of his head, his eyes unfocused, as if seeing past the people on the street.

“But not always and not when you first signed up for the Navy.”

“No.” He blinked, mouth still set in a frown. “I joined the Navy because it was expected of me. I was following orders.”

“Your father?”

Castiel nodded.

“You don’t speak much of your parents.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

“I see.” Dean pressed his lips together and looked away. When Castiel didn’t say anything further, he took a deep breath and said, “Well, have your reasons changed at all over the years?”

“I prefer training to neutrality patrol. Preparing the new cadets is more important to me than watching the horizon for enemies that aren’t interested in where I’m patrolling.”

“Purpose,” Dean supplied. “That’s the thing you’re interested in.”

“Yes, I... suppose you’re right.” Castiel looked at Dean and there was a depth in those blue eyes that was missing a moment ago. A child giggled as her parents lifted her up between them, each holding one of her hands. They gave her a swing, as if she was taking one huge leap forward. It drew the attention of both men and when Dean turned back to Castiel he saw a smile where there was once a frown. “Perhaps I should think the way you do, Dean.”

“It’s easier to get through each day when you know that your life could be the one that keeps them safe.” Dean nodded to the little girl and her family.

“As a fighter pilot, I shoot down enemy aircraft,” Castiel began and Dean furrowed his brows, wondering where he was going with this. “On a large scale mission, my squadron might be sent to protect a battalion during a siege. I would shoot down the enemy strikers who would attack the soldiers on the ground.”

“Okay, so you’d be protecting the soldiers.”

“It would be easy to get through each day when I could be the one that keeps you safe.” There was sincerity in Cas’s eyes as he said that and for a moment Dean couldn’t breath.

“Cas.”

“Who is to say that we would truly cross paths on the battlefield? Who’s to say that we will even join this war? But any time I look down at soldiers on the ground, I will remember they are men like you, like me, with families at home, dreams of a better future, fighting to protect the children here at home.”

“Do you think it will happen? That we will go to war?” His family had been asking at home, but Dean had no answers for them.

“We will just as soon as the Germans gives us a reason to, I think.”

“Because air raids on our allies aren’t reason enough,” Dean scoffed and shook his head.

“The government doesn’t believe it’s our fight just yet, so far as I can tell. Maybe they fear an offensive attack will bring the Germans to our shores.”

“That’s a long haul to travel for an attack. Surely we would notice them before they got to us.”

“The U-boats, German submarines, are one of their strongest weapons.”

“Can they travel that far?”

Castiel shrugged. “The point is, I think we’re waiting for a reason that hasn’t presented itself just yet.”

“I just hope that when it does present itself, we aren’t going to regret how long we waited.” Dean scowled.

Sighing deeply, Castiel stood. He fished his wallet from his pocket and dropped some money on the table for their coffee. “Let’s go find that trail.”

“Yeah...” Dean stood as well and together they left the pier. They followed the paved walkway that stretched on ahead as far as Dean could see. “How long is the trail? Do you know?”

“A little under eight miles, I believe. We don’t need to walk the entire length of it.”

Dean laughed, “I jog further than this as morning training. You sure you’ll be alright, flyboy?”

The glare that Castiel shot his way made Dean laugh harder. He lifted a hand to pat Cas’s back, then left it on his shoulder. There was no one near enough to see them and if there had been, at least they weren’t in uniform.

“Pilots jog too,” Castiel grumbled, even as he leaned close to Dean.

“Do Lieutenants?”

“On occasion.”

“Don’t worry, Cas, I’ll keep you in shape this weekend.”

“Thank you, Dean. How very considerate.”

“I’m a generous guy, what can I say?” He turned his head to kiss Castiel’s temple, then they fell silent. They kept the pace leisurely, in no rush to find their way back to civilization. The mid-morning sun over the lake and the easy breeze whisking cool air across their faces was all the company they needed. Both men were loath to give up the closeness they could maintain when a little over a half an hour later found them at the southernmost edge of the North Avenue beach. Though no people were in sight, they could hear the calls and laughter of families enjoying this warm Saturday.

Dean dropped his arm from around Castiel and they both straightened up, stepping apart. The grass around the path they walked turned to sand and just before the beach, Castiel pulled Dean to a stop. “I hope you don’t mind sand...”

“I don’t mind sand, but we aren’t exactly dressed appropriately.”

“A technicality.” Castiel stooped to roll up his pants, then unlaced his shoes and pulled them off, along with his socks. Dean laughed, shook his head, and proceeded to do the same. “You’ll find we aren’t the only ones.”

Sure enough, once the men walked further onto the beach, Dean spotted a number of men and women walking around with shoes in hand and otherwise normal clothes on. Of course, the majority of the people were in bathing suits and proper swim attire. The beach was a popular place and Dean wasn’t surprised. It had beautiful sand, plenty of vendors selling hot dogs, pretzels, a variety of candy and ice cream cones, and music was being piped out from a phonograph somewhere nearby.

They neared a row of vendors and Dean grinned, “Hey, Cas. I’ll buy you an ice cream.”

“Is that so?”

“It is so,” Dean joked and led them to the nearest ice cream stand. “What do you want? Chocolate, vanilla or strawberry?”

“Chocolate.”

“Good choice,” Dean grinned and looked to the vendor. “Two chocolate cones, please?” He paid, handed Cas his cone, then took his own. They walked away, straying to an empty area of beach.

“Thank you,” Cas said, gesturing with his cone before taking a lick of it.

Dean glanced at Castiel’s tongue, then back up to his blue eyes, mischief dancing in his own, “Oh, it’s my pleasure.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, “Yes, of course it is.”

“Don’t try and say you don’t enjoy it,” Dean made a point of seductively licking the ice cream. Castiel shoved Dean with his elbow and averted his gaze.

“You're incorrigible. How old are you, exactly?”

Dean laughed. “Why? You think I’m immature?”

“I know you are younger, just trying to figure out how much so.” The teasing smile on Castiel’s lips confirmed Dean’s suspicion, though.

“I’m 25,” Dean admitted. “What about you, Lieutenant?”

“I’m 31, soldier.”

“You aren’t that old,” Dean scoffed. “You’re young enough to be immature, too.”

“A lieutenant is never immature.”

“No, one just eats ice cream on the beach with his shoes in his hand and pants rolled up.”

“One wouldn’t want to get sand in his shoes,” Cas shot Dean a smirk.

“Oh, indeed not,” Dean laughed. “So I guess this is you loosened up, letting your hair down?”

“My hair isn’t long enough to be put up, Dean.”

“Eat your ice cream, Cas.” Dean rolled his eyes and turned away to eat his own ice cream, watching children playing in the water. He could feel Cas’s eyes on him and with a sidelong glance saw the man smiling.

They found some railing towards the back of the beach to lean against as they ate their ice cream. To his credit, Cas did a good job of appearing more than a little dirty as he licked the sweet treat, at least any time Dean looked his way. At one point when Dean groaned in frustration, he caught the grin the flitted across Cas’s lips to show he was doing it on purpose.

With the ice cream consumed, Dean and Castiel continued their trek up the beach, dodging children playing games and building sand castles. When the sand finally receded, they walked through the grass to clean their feet before donning socks and shoes once more to continue on the trail.

“That’s a nice beach,” Dean commented idly.

“There are several on the lake, that one is rather popular, though.” Safe again from public eye, this time Castiel took Dean’s hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb as they strolled northward. They passed harbors and parks, strayed away from and back towards Lake Shore Drive. There were great landscaped areas and centers for recreation as well as areas where not a soul was in sight. Dean wasn’t exactly reclusive, but he preferred the times when there was no one around them. Call him selfish, but he wanted Cas to himself as much as possible.

When the trail ran out, it diverged on a path towards one last beach or back towards the city. Nearly two hours had passed on their leisurely walk after they left first beach and the sun was beating down from the middle of the sky. With no hope of shade, the pair took refuge in a restaurant for lunch. Over a light meal, they shared stories from training. Dean talked about the trouble Ash got into trying to sneak beers when he wasn’t allowed. Castiel spoke of missions with his squadron and tricks Gabriel liked to pull in the air. Though Cas wasn’t overly expressive, the small, fond smile he wore when talking about the men he flew with was ever present. It might have made Dean the slightest bit jealous if the entire meal hadn’t been coupled with the not-exactly-accidental colliding of their feet beneath the table.

Castiel paid for the meal and, deciding it was too hot now to walk through town, he also paid for a cab to take them back to the hotel. They probably could have managed, but they were on leave and had no cause to push themselves and drench their suits in sweat. Back in their room, Dean shrugged out of his jacket immediately, laying it on the bed they weren’t using and walked straight to the window, throwing it open. Their room had no fan, so the breeze through the curtains would have to suffice. He turned back to find Cas tugging his tie loose and pulling it over his head to toss onto the bed beside both their jackets.

“Think the maids took notice that we only used one bed?” Dean smirked.

“We could always make use of both,” Castiel said, unfastening his cufflinks so he could roll up his shirtsleeves.

“I like the way you think, Cas,” Dean pointed, then followed suit to roll up his own shirt sleeves. They both untucked their shirts, shrugged out of suspenders and toed off their shoes. While Castiel undid only the top few buttons on his shirt, Dean let his hang open, so only his undershirt covered his chest.

Castiel stepped forward, hooking a finger under the chain of Dean’s dogtags and lifted it up. He inspected the metal tag, running his thumb over the raised letters and numbers. Dean couldn’t read the expression on Cas’s face; it was one of deep concentration and something undefinable.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Dean asked, his voice quiet even to his own ears.

A smile turned Cas’s lips up and smoothed out the creases in his brow. He looked up at Dean, clasped his hand around the dogtags and leaned in to kiss Dean softly. It wasn’t an answer, but Dean wasn’t going to argue, so he wound an arm around Castiel and returned that kiss.

“Interested in using that bed now?” Dean spoke against Castiel’s lips.

“No, not just yet. I just felt the need to kiss you.” He smiled and spread a hand over Dean’s chest.

“I’m alright with that.” Dean kissed Cas once more, then pulled back to look at the man’s face. “You okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine. I’m happy.”

“You’ve got a hell of a happy face, there, Cas.”

“I was trying to think of the last time I felt this way. Maybe after I joined...”

“So being with me makes you think of signing your life away to the US Navy?” Dean chuckled.

“That’s not exactly the way I would state it,” Castiel rolled his eyes and tugged Dean towards the bed. They settled there, both sitting with their backs to the headboard, legs stretched out.

“Okay, so how do you mean?”

“I was free then, to make my own choices.”

“Not a lot of people think of the armed forces as a place of freedom.”

“When I went to the Naval Academy I was no longer living at home.”

“This about your folks? Getting away from them?” Dean looked over at Castiel with a raised brow. “‘Cause it can’t be about getting away from Anna.”

“No, you’re right, I missed her.” Castiel closed his eyes and let his head rest on Dean’s shoulder. “My father and I never got along very well.”

“Ahh, that would do it,” Dean slid his hand over Castiel’s and gave it a squeeze. “So getting away from home made you happier?”

“It did. I was young, 18 I think, and I was so glad to be on my own. Even if I was under the orders of a drill sergeant and commanding officers, at least they would recognize when I did well.”

“So I take it your dad was difficult to impress?”

“He had rather high expectations, yes.”

“But you’re a lieutenant now, that should be worth recognition, right?”

Castiel laughed. He turned his head to kiss Dean’s neck and then changed the subject, “The point is, I was happy then, and I’m happy now.”

Dean sighed quietly but smiled at the fact that Cas was happy. Knowing he influenced that was a pretty good feeling. He rested his head against the top of Castiel’s. “Good. We’d be in a bit of a mess if you were unhappy here.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Dean could hear the smile in Castiel’s voice, even without seeing it.

They fell into a comfortable silence after that. The heat of the afternoon made Dean tired and before he knew it, he was drifting off to sleep in that peaceful state, with Castiel’s head resting on his shoulder, their hands held together, settled on Dean’s thigh. Whenever he returned to consciousness, Castiel’s smooth, even breathing told him the pilot was likely dozing as well. Deciding that this was alright, Dean gave in and let his eyelids droop for an afternoon nap.

* * *

When Castiel opened his eyes, orange light of the setting sun and the slight grumbling of his stomach told him it must be mid evening. He stretched his back and lifted his head, accidentally bumping Dean’s as he did so. The soldier let out a muffled and confused sound as he lifted his head.

“What time is it?” Dean muttered, seeming to take stock of where he was and what was going on. Castiel smiled.

“Perhaps 7:30?” Sitting up, Castiel checked his watch and nodded. “Just after.”

“Well, that wasn’t half bad. Might have been better if we thought to lay down,” Chuckling, Dean tipped his head left and right, working out the crick in his neck.

“Take note for next time.” Cas reached up a hand to cup Dean’s cheek, leaned in and kissed him, then climbed out of bed. He fixed the buttons on his shirt and tucked it back in, pulling his suspenders back on. “Dinner?”

“Hmm?” Dean blinked, as if still waking up. He had been staring at Castiel, his head tilted a little smile on his face. “What? Dinner? Yeah, sounds good.”

“Get lost for a moment there, soldier?”

“Just enjoying the view, Lieutenant. That allowed?” Dean grinned broadly.

“I think I could approve that.” Castiel smiled to himself and tried not to pay attention to the way Dean’s eyes followed him as he retrieved his tie and put it back on. Finally, the infantryman got out of bed and fixed his own clothes. It was a bit of a shame to see those sleeves cover his forearms, when Castiel much preferred to see them bare. He glanced away and out the window. “At least it’s starting to cool off.”

“Yeah, could be a nice night to walk,” Dean nodded.

When both men were once again presentable, they shared one last kiss, sweet and lingering, before heading out into the city. They wandered West this time, away from the lake and the university, in search of a quiet restaurant. More young people were out now in the twilight of the evening, students looking for a good time, and fewer families. Servicemen in uniforms, many of them from the nearby Naval base, could be seen either out with a girl on their arms or just larking about with friends.

Dean was smiling and Castiel found himself mirroring the expression. It was easy to feel young and free around Dean, the man brought it out in him. He felt as though they were at a place where they were friends, good friends, in addition to being lovers. He laughed at the thought of such a word, “lovers.” Dean looked over at him curiously.

“What’s funny?” He asked.

“Nothing... Just laughing at myself.” Castiel admitted and glanced away, determined not to blush.

“Care to let me in on the joke?” Dean was grinning now, Cas was certain of it.

“Not particularly.”

Dean gave him a gentle shove to the shoulder but relented otherwise. “Alright, fine. Maybe I’ll get it out of you later.”

“Maybe.” Castiel shrugged and gave him a challenging grin.

Eventually they found a place to eat, both agreeing that anything looked good. The restaurant was full of people not much younger than themselves, and it was small enough to feel comfortable, not overly fancy. There was no lounge singer and the waiters didn’t look like they belonged in the Ritz Carlton, letting them both relax through the meal. They kept the conversation easy and Castiel kept it mostly focused on Dean. The man spoke of his home and childhood, games he played with Sam and the friends he had there. Dean’s love for his family was endearing and something Castiel envied a little, but he was too happy to know that Dean’s life had been a good one for the envy to be more than a fleeting thought.

After eating, they paid and left the restaurant, walking out into the pleasant night air. On the street, Dean turned to Cas with a huge grin and tugged on his jacket sleeve, “You know what we should do?”

Tilting his head curiously, Castiel gave Dean a wary look, “What should we do?”

“Go roller skating. There must be a rink somewhere around here, right?”

“You want to go roller skating.” Though Castiel meant it as a question, the phrase came out more like a statement of disbelief.

“Yeah, it’s real popular back home. It must be popular here, too; didn’t you ever go with your friends or with Anna?”

“Yes, of course, but it’s been years...” Castiel shook his head.

“We’ll have a ball, you’ll see...” Dean still held his sleeve and pulled Castiel on after him as he hurried towards a young man walking on the street. “Excuse me, sir, do you happen to know where the nearest roller rink is?”

The man glanced between the two of them, then pointed down the road, “Down two blocks that way, then hook a right, another three blocks and you should find it.”

“Great, thanks,” Dean nodded and grinned at Castiel, who could only shake his head and chuckle.

“No problem, have fun,” The man added as they waved and headed towards the rink by his directions.

“Oh, we will!” Dean called over his shoulder. “See, it was meant to be, this close to the restaurant and all.”

“If you insist...” As they walked, Dean released Castiel’s jacket and slid his hands into his pockets. Castiel watched him and the way Dean couldn’t stop grinning. It was heartwarming. Though Dean was only about five years younger than him, Castiel saw a youthful spirit in the man that made him feel young again as well. It was a breath of fresh air as compared to the way his students made him feel much older.

“I do insist.” Dean turned that grin on Castiel and the pilot felt himself return it.

“Then we must, I suppose,” Castiel shrugged helplessly.

They walked into the rink, already full of people, young and old, skating around with bright smiles on their faces. Men wore summer suits and women had on colorful dresses. Music rang through the large pipe Wurlitzer above the rink, played by a woman on an organ in a booth off to the side.

“C’mon, Cas, this will be swell,” Dean tugged him towards a counter where they each rented a pair of metal skates to strap onto their shoes.

“It’s been years since I’ve done this, Dean...” They sat on benches to lace the skates up and Castiel shook his head.

“Yeah, you said that. You’ll be fine. And anyway, I’m not going to let you fall. I taught Sammy how to skate, I can teach you how to again.” He stood and, of course, had no trouble doing so.

Castiel watched Dean for a moment, held onto the edge of the bench and pursed his lips before giving it a try. He stood and, accidentally on purpose, lost his balance a little bit. Dean instantly reached out to hold him by the elbows and steady Castiel. While Cas looked uncertain, Dean just grinned.

“See, I gotcha,” Dean said as Castiel straightened, finding his balance. “Want to go out onto the rink?”

“Sure, just... stay close.”

Dean laughed and kept one hand under Castiel’s forearm as he led them out onto the floor. Most of the people in the rink had no trouble skating, but there were a few that wobbled. Pretending to not be able to skate was a little tricky, as Cas didn’t actually want to fall. He would occasionally wave one arm, as if trying to maintain balance and every time, Dean squeezed his arm to keep him upright.

“Okay, let’s try this...” Dean said after they made a slow circuit of the rink. He did a turn and came to face Castiel, skating backwards as he held Cas’s arms, just above the wrist. Castiel held Dean’s arms the same way, his eyes focused on their hands. The way he gripped Dean tight and kept looking down probably made him look nervous, but if Dean noticed the smile on his lips it would probably ruin the effect.

His ruse worked, though, and no one gave them a second glance as Dean helped Castiel skate around the rink. About the only reason anyone looked their way was when Castiel skidded and almost fell. He never did, though, because Dean kept him up. When Dean had to dodge a group of people he almost skated into, Castiel ended up skating right into him, and that occasion was a true accident. It got them a hug as Dean caught him with an arm around his waist and they both laughed as they tried not to topple to the ground. A group of girls skated past, giggling behind their hands at their near-fall. Dean laughed and grinned flirtatiously at them, smoothing everything over.

By the end of the night, they were both happy and Cas stopped pretending he didn’t know how to skate. Dean flashed him a smile, “You’re doing better, Cas!”

“You’re a good teacher,” Cas said and gave him a conspiratorial smile.

“Is that what it was?” Dean asked, leading them out of the rink. It was getting late and the rink was going to close soon.

“I’m certain I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Castiel shook his head and skated away from Dean towards the bench to remove the skates from his shoes. He heard Dean laugh behind him and then joined him to remove his own. They turned them in at the counter and left, making tracks back to the hotel. The night was nice and comfortably cool, so they took their time.

“I taught Anna to skate,” Castiel finally said.

“So you were cheating.” Dean looked at him with a smirk and Castiel looked down, bumping the backs of their hands together.

“It worked, though.”

“Yeah... If by worked you mean I kept my hands on you all night.”

“That is exactly what I mean,” Cas looked up and met Dean’s eye.

“Aren’t you glad I suggested skating?”

“I am glad.” A sudden yawn ceased any other words from Castiel and he covered his mouth.

“Well now, that got you plumb tuckered out, huh?”

Castiel blinked and looked up at Dean with furrowed brows. “Plumb what?”

“Plumb tuckered out, come on, Cas, don’t you watch Westerns?”

“I’m afraid I don’t,” Cas laughed and shook his head, yawning again. “But if it means I’m tired, then yes, I am ... tuckered out.”

“You’re on military time... or I guess Navy time, in your case. I get it.”

“We grow accustomed to early nights,” Castiel concurred.

Walking back to the hotel didn’t take long but by the time they arrived at their room, Castiel could already feel his eyelids growing heavy. The warm laugh from Dean told him the infantryman had noticed. Dean pressed a kiss to his temple from his place standing behind Cas and slid hands over his shoulders, hooking fingers under the collar of his coat and pulling it down off his shoulders.

“I’ll help you with that...” Dean murmured into his ear and Castiel smiled. Rid of the jacket, which Dean tossed onto their unused bed, Cas leaned back against Dean’s chest. The taller man wound his arms around Castiel’s waist, untucked his shirt and began unfastening the buttons one by one.

“Taking care of superior officers, very good behavior, soldier.”

“I aim to please, Lieutenant.” Dean’s voice made Castiel sigh.

Backing up just enough to give himself space, Dean tugged Cas’s suspenders down and took his shirt off, leaving him in just an undershirt. He stepped around so they were standing face to face and hands went to the fly of Castiel’s pants. Tired but determined, Castiel got his shoes off and lifted his hands to Dean’s chest. While the pilot had intended to undo the buttons, he got distracted and just slid his hands slowly up Dean’s chest, stopped there and leaned in, resting his head against Dean’s shoulder.

“You really are tired, aren’t you?” Dean laughed and hugged him before he could finish undressing Castiel.

“I’m sorry, Dean...” He said quietly, nuzzling into the crook of Dean’s neck.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He kissed the top of Castiel’s head, then ushered him towards the bed. “Let’s get you settled.”

Castiel didn’t want to be so tired, especially because he didn’t want to miss out on time with Dean, but they hadn’t gotten much sleep the previous night and it had been a long and active day. He took comfort in the fact that Dean seemed more amused than agitated and let the other man help him into bed. Cas shucked off his own pants, but Dean must have taken them away, because they miraculously vanished and were replaced by the bedsheet. He kept his eyes open just long enough to watch Dean undress.

The younger man had an efficiency about him, military style, of course, and quickly removed his suit, folded it and set it on the bed with the rest of their clothes. He looked over at Castiel and smiled a warm and rather dashing smile.

“You’re very handsome, Dean.” His voice sounded sleepy, even in his own ears.

“Shucks. Thanks, Cas...” Dean prowled towards the bed and slid under the sheet, scooting over until they were face to face. Castiel shifted forward a bit and their legs intertwined. Their hands found each other and grasped together a moment before Dean brought Cas’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. The gesture was followed by a kiss to Cas’s forehead, his cheek and finally his lips. With closed eyes, Castiel returned the kiss and sighed when Dean pulled back. “You’re a real looker yourself, you know?”

“Am I?” Castiel asked, unable to keep his eyes open, but smiling all the same.

There was a brief pause and Dean squeezed Castiel’s hand. “You really are. Thought so the moment I saw you.”

Castiel kept on smiling, he would probably fall asleep with a smile on his lips, but now it was his turn to pull Dean’s hand closer and kiss it. After the kiss, Dean took his hand back, if only so he could wrap both arms around Castiel and pull him into a hug, tucking him in against his chest, chin resting on his head. While Cas wasn’t accustomed to feeling so much smaller in someone’s arms, being a tall man himself, he found it wasn’t so bad with Dean. There was something comforting about it, letting Dean embrace him this way, and he felt his whole body relax into that hold.

“Goodnight, Dean.” He murmured into the man’s bare chest.

“Night, Cas...” Dean kissed the top of his head once more and squeezed his arms around Castiel. That was the last thought the pilot had before he fell into a deep, contented sleep.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

_**21 July, 1940** _

By morning, Castiel’s back was pressed to Dean’s chest and he could feel the light trail of breath on the back of his neck, tickling through his hair. Dean’s arms were wound around him, holding him surprisingly close despite the fact that he was presumably still asleep. Castiel didn’t want to move from this spot; he wasn’t certain he even wanted to be awake yet. The sun shining in through the window told him it was past sunrise, but that didn’t matter and he closed his eyes against the light.

One of Dean’s legs was nestled between Castiel’s, their hips were flush together, and Dean’s arm pressed against the length of Cas’s chest. It felt secure. With a little stretch, Castiel pushed back into Dean’s chest, tipped his head so that Dean’s lips were a little closer to his neck, smiled and settled again. Dean answered with a low hum, nuzzled his nose into Cas’ hair and tightened his hold. Neither man said a word.

Dean’s hips moved next, pushing into Castiel’s backside and making him groan quietly. Kisses followed, placed along the base of his hairline, down to his shoulder. Castiel let his shoulders sag and licked his lips, parting them. Dean’s hand slid down along Cas’s chest, fingers teasing along his stomach and side. Though Dean was naked, Castiel still had on his boxers and for the moment, Dean kept his hands above the waistband. Castiel slid his hand along the back of Dean’s, trying to move it lower, but Dean wouldn’t, moving his hand up to his shoulder instead.

He kissed slowly and gently the entire length from shoulder to ear, then brushed his lips softly across the shell of Castiel’s ear. His tongue darted out to lick at it. Castiel sighed out a near whimper and heard Dean’s chuckle in response. He followed it with a whisper, “Good morning, Cas...”

“Morning...” Castiel whispered back. He drew his fingers along Dean’s hand and up his arm, then turned around within Dean’s grasp. Face to face, Castiel nuzzled his cheek to Dean’s and brushed their lips together without kissing. The soldier gave him an open mouth smile and nibbled lightly at Castiel’s bottom lip.

Opening his eyes, Castiel saw the relaxed and happy look Dean wore and kissed his cheek, then his temple and his brow. The kisses were soft and tender and made Dean tighten his hold on Castiel once more. Hands started at the small of Cas’s back and eased their way up his body. When they reached the backs of the pilot’s shoulders, Dean on held firmly, tipped his head and kissed Castiel. The kiss was deep and slow and all consuming. He rolled Castiel onto his back, keeping their bodies closely slotted together.

Castiel hitched a leg up, hooking it around Dean’s thigh, arched his back so their torsos met in a hard line and buried his hands in Dean’s hair. There was no rush in their kiss this time, but the passion was equal to the first time they had sex. It was a much deeper passion, not born of lust for each other, but something different. It made Castiel’s chest feel tight; it both thrilled and terrified him. At what point did Dean Winchester wake this long forgotten emotion in him? At what point did his whole world become a better place just because Dean was in it? And what did that mean?

He didn’t know when it happened, but in that one kiss, he knew it was true. Castiel held their faces close and put all of the emotions related to that revelation into the kiss. It fed into Dean’s quietly boiling passion and he rolled his hips against Castiel’s, making the pilot groan out and break the kiss. He threw his head back against the pillow and lifted his hips into Dean’s. The thin fabric of Cas’s underwear didn’t do much to hide the fact that they were both growing hard as Dean rubbed their shafts together with each rock of his hips.

One of Castiel’s hands abandoned Dean’s hair, moving down to press against the small of his back. In the wake of the broken kiss, Dean’s lips traveled from Cas’s mouth to his jaw, then found his neck. More gentle kisses, echoing those from when they woke, were placed lovingly along his throat, collarbone and shoulders.

“Dean...” Castiel nearly cried out the name, breathless from these simple actions, heady with emotions he wasn’t used to.

Dean kissed his way up to Castiel’s ear, kissed his ear, too, and whispered, “I got ya’, Cas.” He lifted himself up just enough to look down into Castiel’s face, saw the way Cas’s brows were drawn together, his mouth slack with want, eyes half-lidded, and simply smiled. “I got ya’.”

Shifting his weight to one arm, Dean used his other to trail a hand slowly down Castiel’s chest. The pilot felt his body move without any permission granted, arching into that tender touch. Castiel sucked in a broken breath and let his eyes fall shut. How could Dean completely undo him this way? “Please,” he begged, not even knowing what he was begging for, exactly.

“I want to remember this. Remember you, just like this,” Dean said quietly, then shook his head and laughed. “You’re so damn gorgeous.”

Castiel opened his eyes, not even caring about the way his cheeks flushed, because when he looked at Dean’s face, he saw the soldier’s eyes trained on his body. There was nothing but pure honesty in his expression. It was as if he hardly believed what he saw.

“You do this to me, Dean,” he drew the soldier’s attention with that statement. Dean’s eyes confirmed the disbelief Castiel read on his face. “You have an effect on me that no other does...”

“Cas, I’m not--” Dean started, breaking eye contact, but Castiel cut him off. He placed a hand to Dean’s cheek and kept his attention.

“Not what? Not special? Not worthy? You are, Dean. You are astonishing, brilliant, dedicated, caring, sexy, and if you don’t kiss me--”

Now it was Dean’s turn to cut Castiel off, doing so by instantly resuming their broken kiss. He held Castiel’s face, kissing him with great fervor. Castiel moaned into it, eyes closed and mouth more than willing. The kiss was hard, desperate, and Dean pressed Castiel into the bed. Crushed between Dean’s body and the mattress was exactly where Cas wanted to be. His fingers clung to Dean wherever they could find purchase, one at the side of Dean’s face and the other at the back of his shoulder.

Heat radiated between them wherever their bodies met. Castiel wanted every inch of his body up against Dean’s. And Dean wanted the same: his arm stretched along the length of Castiel’s back, hand clinging to his shoulder just beside his neck; Dean’s other arm wrapped about his waist, pinning their bodies together at the hips. They all but writhed against each other. Dean worked a leg between both of Cas’s, grinding his thigh against Castiel’s boxer-clad erection.

The kiss broke into a series of shorter kisses that Dean placed all over Castiel’s face, memorizing it with his lips. Castiel tried to return as many as he could, but he became breathless again, wanting everything and more all at once. Dean kept the pace slow, taking his time worshiping Castiel and keeping him on the edge of desire. Castiel wasn’t much for pillow talk -- was rarely in a situation where there was time for such things -- but the way Dean murmured little words against his skin made him ache for it.

“Gorgeous, sexy, beautiful,” were among the words Dean used. Had they come from anyone else, Castiel might have balked at the choices. From Dean, they were meaningful, they were real and honest, because he believed them to be true. From Dean, the words had power. In that moment, Castiel would have given him anything. Shocking as it was, Castiel knew it was true. And he said the only word as powerful and as meaningful as he could think of.

“Dean,” he said. Over and over again, Castiel whispered the name, his voice full of wanting, need, desire and, god-help-him, full of love. Castiel’s hand slid down the length of Dean’s back, feeling the flex of his muscles with each thrust of his hips. His fingers dug into the hard muscles there and his grip made Dean bite at his neck. He wrapped a leg around one of Dean’s, then reached lower, taking a firm hold of the man’s ass.

“Cas,” Dean grunted into his ear. “Cas, I need you.”

“You have me, Dean.” Castiel murmured into his hair. His heart pounded in his chest as random thoughts surfaced in his mind. The subtle touch of hands in the ballroom, the stolen kiss in the photobooth, the first letter signed “yours,” a smile, a laugh, a moan of passion. All these things that were Dean, and now him, here, saying he needed Cas, was almost more than the pilot could handle. Castiel’s voice was hoarse when he added, “I’m yours.”

Dean lifted his head, brushed his nose along Castiel’s cheek, brushed their lips together in something more intimate than a kiss, something tenderer. Castiel let his lips part and simply breathed Dean in before the younger man pulled back and they both opened their eyes. What he saw in Dean’s green gaze mirrored the way Castiel felt. They didn’t have to say it, they didn’t need to spell it out, and before Dean had a chance to consider it, Castiel kissed him again. The kiss, slow and sensual, said it all for them.

When the kiss met a natural end, Dean pressed one more brief kiss to Castiel’s lips, then traveled down his body. Worshipful kisses peppered across Castiel’s skin, not as a means to an end with the goal of getting to his dick, but with the intention of little affections. He kissed the nape of Cas’s neck, down along his collarbone, over his heart, nudged his dogtags aside and kissed the place beneath them. He kissed along the side of his ribs, the ridges of Castiel’s abs, the place just beside his belly button and along one hip bone. He hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of Castiel’s boxers and slowly pulled them off.

Castiel’s breath was short and staggered, all of Dean’s kisses caused little gasps. He kept his eyes on the young man’s face and the tender expression he wore. With the boxers gone, Dean pressed one last kiss, right against the side of his hard cock, then brought himself back up to his lips. Dean cupped a hand to his cheek and Cas tipped his head into that touch. They shared another slow kiss as Dean lowered his body to press against Castiel’s and both hummed their contented pleasure. Hips worked in small circles, rubbing their bare shafts together in a half-gentle way. They weren’t dry humping like horny teenagers or rutting up against each other in a side street alley. They were taking their time.

When they stopped long enough to uncover the lube, Dean took his time preparing Castiel. There was unvoiced consent that Dean was taking the lead on this and Castiel was willing to give up the control just to feel this way. He found he enjoyed the feeling of being cared for, especially by Dean. The way Dean worked his fingers inside of him felt almost good enough that he could have gotten off on that alone. The process was slow, like everything else this morning, not tortuously so, but sensual. While one hand worked inside him, the other caressed his stomach and chest. Dean easily had Castiel moaning softly and wanting this feeling to go on forever.

Dean pulled his fingers out when he was satisfied Castiel would be alright, and eased his slick shaft into him. They both moaned now, deep and low, and once Dean was fully inside Castiel, he leaned down and they shared another kiss. Castiel’s legs wound around Dean’s hips, his hands cupped the sides of the man’s face, and they held onto each other like this is where they were always meant to be. The pace Dean set was easy, with no need to rush. Each time he pulled out, he pushed back in deep and hard but not quick. It shook something in Castiel, right down to his core; he felt it in his gut and grunted with pleasure each time. He wanted to feel every inch of Dean, take him in completely and hold him there. He hoisted his hips for the perfect angle, kept Dean in place with his legs wrapped around the man, and clenched his muscles around Dean’s dick to keep his lover moaning.

“God, you’re amazing,” Dean praised, filling Cas once again.

After a low moan, Castiel chuckled, “I’m no God...”

Dean’s laugh came out breathily, “Then you’re an angel.”

Before Castiel could protest this statement, Dean was kissing him again and Cas didn’t care to tell him otherwise. He slid his hand into Dean’s hair, returned the kiss and rode his deep thrusts. Cas couldn’t remember the last time sex felt this good; that’s when he realized this wasn’t just sex, this was making love. With the slow pace, they both lasted a long while, but there were moments when Dean would just hold himself deep inside Castiel, hands clinging to his shoulders, grunting and then taking a breath, as if trying to keep himself from release.

They were both sweating, Dean’s back was slick and his hair was moist. Cas could feel the sheets beneath them growing damp. The occasional puffs of Dean’s breath against his neck and shoulders made Castiel gasp or shiver. He didn’t want the pleasure to end, but they were both nearing their climax. Dean grunted and pressed his lips to Castiel’s cheek, murmuring about how close he was, how sexy Cas was, how good it all felt. The words made Cas feel heady again and he clenched his fist into the hair at the back of Dean’s neck, tightened his muscles around Dean’s shaft and met each thrust hard and fast until Dean was crying out and coming inside him.

Dean’s hand, shaky now as he came, found Cas’s dick and stroked him through his own release. Cas cried out, his low voice pitching just a little higher, his mouth right beside Dean’s ear. It made Dean groan and his fist pumped around Cas until he was finished. They both laid there trembling against each other in the aftermath, bodies curled around each other, hands clenching where they were. Both men gasped for air, trying to control their ragged breathing and pounding hearts.

As soon as he could move his arms, Dean wound them around Castiel’s body and rolled them both over. He laid on his back and cradled Cas against his chest, pulling his limp cock slowly out of Cas as he did so. They rested, near silent, apart from their panting, for a few long minutes. Finally, Dean brought a hand to Castiel’s hair and combed his fingers through it. Cas could tell Dean was still trembling a little and couldn’t help smiling.

“Wow...” Dean broke the silence.

“Yes... Wow,” Cas repeated, tilting his head back to kiss Dean’s neck.

“That was... just...” He couldn’t find the words to describe it.

Lifting himself up, Castiel looked down into Dean’s face, studying the look on it. He seemed bewildered, content, happy. Dean’s eyes, such a bright green in the mid-morning light, were beautiful and honest. Not having any words of his own, Castiel leaned in and pressed a soft, slow kiss to Dean’s lips. There was no tongue, no hunger, just pure adoration. The sound Dean made was close to a whimper and Castiel smiled. As he pulled away, he brushed his nose against Dean’s and laughed. “You bring something out in me.”

“How do you mean?” Dean asked, blinking his eyes open again.

Castiel shook his head, “I don’t know.” He did though, he just didn’t want to admit what it was. Castiel didn’t fully understand it because he’d never felt quite this way about another person before, but it felt right. It felt like something he never believed he would feel.

Dean searched Castiel’s eyes, as if he would find the answer in them, but whether he found it or not, he didn’t say. Instead, in barely a whisper, he said, “I think I know the feeling...”

They hugged each other and laid in bed as the morning sun shone in through the window. Castiel pressed his face into Dean’s neck and Dean traced patterns with his fingertips along Cas’s back and shoulders. This was the most peaceful Castiel could remember feeling after sex. It was the best sex he could remember having, at that. As he rested in Dean’s arms, he didn’t care who had the control for this particular moment. Dean seemed to be about as fragile as Cas felt, and maybe the whole morning was in a state of delicateness. They were like freshly fallen snow or an undisturbed pond, the silence in a lush green forest at spring time or just before dawn on an autumn morning.

As these thoughts ran through Castiel’s head, he couldn’t help but wonder when he became so poetic -- and a bad poet, at that. Then he wondered if this is what love did to a man, if these wistful, youthful thoughts that he would never think of saying aloud could be attributed to love? And if so, did that mean he was in love with Dean Winchester? And was Dean in love with him?

“You know we could stay in bed all day,” Dean said, breaking Castiel from his thoughts. He chuckled and kissed Dean’s chest.

“We could.”

“Oh? Is that stamina of yours actually failing you this morning?” Dean tipped his head to try and see Castiel’s face. To abide him, Cas lifted himself up on one arm and looked at Dean.

“You could say I’m feeling lazy now.”

Dean crooked a smile and ran a hand down Castiel’s body, letting it rest on his ass. “Is that so...”

With a laugh, Castiel nodded, “It is... It is, so.”

“Well then! Someone make a note. This date in history, July... uh...”

“21st,” Castiel supplied, a wry smile on his lips.

“July 21st, 1940! Lieutenant Castiel Novak was actually worn out by sex.”

Castiel responded by grabbing a spare pillow and hitting Dean in the face with it. They both laughed and rolled around in the sheets for a moment before Dean ended up wrapped in Cas’s arms and they settled once again. They dozed in bed until early afternoon, when Dean’s stomach began growling in protest of their laziness. Cas was the first one to move, dragging Dean out of bed by his hand and into the bathroom where they took turns washing up in the tub and shaving at the sink.

After they dressed and were ready to leave the hotel, Castiel stopped Dean at the door. He was seized by the need to kiss him one last time before they left for the day, and so he did. One hand wrapped around the back of Dean’s neck and lips pressed to lips. It was another slow and chaste kiss, but it lingered on until they both pulled back, smiling and slightly bewildered.

“Come on, let’s get some grub.” Dean said, kissing Castiel’s cheek once more and off they went. The men found a small, quiet place to eat lunch, one with a relaxed and casual atmosphere. People on the streets were all dressed nicely today, having gone to church earlier that morning. Women wore fancy hats and gloves and little girls were in their best dresses. Young men were seen on coats and ties, tugging uncomfortably at their collars in the early afternoon heat. Dean smiled as he watched a young boy get cuffed lightly on the ear by a parent for pulling at his clothes.

“Did your family regularly visit church?” Castiel asked Dean, drawing his attention.

“Sometimes, but not every Sunday. My parents are a bit weird about religion, in a way they don’t really talk about. My mom seems to have respect for the church as a holy place, though I don’t know how she feels about the teachings. Dad goes as a place of penance, I think, when he knows he hasn’t been a good man.” Dean blinked, staring off and considering something. Then he scoffed a laugh and added, “Every night, though, when I was little, my mom would kiss my forehead and tell me angels were watching over me.”

“That’s a nice thought.” Castiel said.

“Yeah, well, I hope they’re looking out for me when I’m on the battlefield, eventually.” Dean laughed, keeping the subject light. “What about your family? Your name is sort of ... religious-sounding.”

“My parents insisted Anna and I attend church every Sunday, first mass.” Castiel shrugged. “I did so every Sunday until I was 20. Then, one morning at the Naval Academy, I just missed it. I stayed out too late the night before and slept through my alarm.”

“Really?” Dean seemed impressed by this. “What did you do?”

“At first I was upset with myself, then I realized... I only went because it was expected of me. Sometimes I pray for guidance or direction when I’m uncertain of myself, but I got very little out of listening to the preacher’s sermons every week, especially concerning certain subject matters.”

Dean hummed and frowned, looking away. He knew which subjects Cas was referring to without having to ask. “Yeah, I know those ones.”

“It was easier at the Naval Academy, actually, because the church there was fairly non-denominational, so the sermons were more...” Castiel lifted a hand and rolled it as he thought. “The sort of things you tell a navy man to make him feel better about the lives he would one day take.”

“Right, yeah, same on base, from what I hear.” Dean nodded to the side, as if gesturing towards North Carolina.

“You don’t go?” Castiel asked without judgement in his voice.

“Not really,” Dean shrugged. “It’s not really my thing. You didn’t seem particularly torn up about missing it this morning.”

Castiel smiled and looked down at the table. “No, not particularly.” He looked back up to Dean, catching his eyes. “I think I prefer our method of worship.”

Dean laughed, full and bright, tipping his head back. Castiel’s own smile was quiet and modest, amused by Dean’s response and that he caused it.

“I would happily attend that service every Sunday,” Dean grinned.

“I’m certain.” They shared knowing glances as a waiter came to refill their coffee mugs. After deciding to keep the conversation to safer topics in public, they finished their lunches, then took to the streets for another leisurely walk.

As they walked, the mid-afternoon sun bore down on them and heat rose off the concrete streets, making the day uncomfortably hot. Though Dean and Cas were both used to working through heat, the moment they came upon the movie theater advertising air conditioning, both men stopped to inspect the posters on the outer wall.

“Ohh!” Dean gasped, grabbing Cas by the arm and pulling him over.

“What is it?” Castiel stumbled over to see the poster, a lively picture of Errol Flynn brandishing a pirate sword against an unseen enemy. In the background, a man and woman embraced as if about to kiss. The text at the bottom read the actor’s name and the film’s title, The Sea Hawk.

“Errol Flynn! He’s grand.”

“I’m somehow not surprised you’re a fan,” Castiel grinned and nudged Dean in the ribs.

“What? Everyone likes him.” Dean waved it off. “We should see this film. Look, it’s about sailors. You’re a sailor, kind of.”

“I’m a pilot, really...” Castiel corrected. “And he’s a pirate.”

“Pirates are sailors.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean and raised a brow.

“Okay, maybe they aren’t the same thing exactly, but they’re tops. Come on, let’s see it.”

“This certainly has nothing to do with you fancying Errol Flynn...” Castiel gave him a sly grin.

“Nope, nothing at all. Only got eyes for you, kid.”

Castiel couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’ll remind you I’m your elder.”

“Just come on, it’s hot and they have air conditioning.” Dean made his way to the box office to buy a couple of tickets. Still laughing, Castiel followed behind him.

“Will you buy me popcorn?” Castiel teased quietly.

“Sure thing, I’ll even get you raisinets.” Dean flashed him a smile, but Castiel shook his head. “No?”

“No, I have a better idea for candy after the movie.” Though Dean gave him a curious look, Castiel didn’t explain. “Just popcorn for now.”

They bought their tickets for the film, headed to the small concession stand and got a bag of popcorn and two bottles of Coca-Cola. Castiel rarely had soda pop, but Dean insisted that it was part of the film-going experience and he had to have some. The movie house really was blessedly cool and Castiel had to admit, if only to himself, that he was glad Dean suggested this.

Errol Flynn’s character was a privateer working for England who got into trouble with both Spain and Queen Elizabeth I when he attacked a ship that held the Spanish ambassador. Though he fell in love with the ambassador’s niece and uncovered a plot that Spain was plotting against England. After being captured trying to prove it, he made a daring escape and, of course, saved the day and won the girl. Castiel thought the movie alright, but he truly enjoyed the way Dean reacted as he watched. Dean seemed to always be on the edge of his seat for the many dueling scenes and quietly cheered for the escape of Flynn’s character. Whenever something good happened, a huge smile would break out across Dean’s face and he would turn to Castiel, expecting to see the same reaction. Castiel smiled each time Dean looked at him, though not for the same reasons.

In the darkness of the theater, the pair of them touched more often. Their knees pressed together, as if they had been crowded into their seats. They often leaned into one another to whisper comments about the movie. Even when they had finished whispering, their shoulders continued to brush together. Castiel loved every moment of it, especially the way it made him feel like a teenager trying to get away with something illicit. By the end of the film, it wasn’t just the air conditioning that made Castiel glad that Dean had chosen this activity.

As they walked out of the theater, Dean excitedly spoke of his favorite parts in the film, torn between one of the duels and the grand escape at the end. Castiel laughed at him and just shook his head.

“Come on, Cas, you oughta admit, that was a good flick.” Dean flashed a huge, coaxing grin at him.

Castiel eyed him, but wore a sideways smirk of amusement at the same time. “I certainly enjoyed myself, though I wouldn’t attribute that entirely to the film.”

“What do you mean?” Dean tipped his head, confused.

Without answering, Castiel grabbed Dean’s sleeve and pulled him down the sidewalk, away from the movie house. “If you have to ask, you’ll never know.”

“What? Cas...” Dean allowed himself to be pulled for a few paces, then fell into step beside Castiel. “Wait a second. Are you trying to say I’m amusing?”

“You have a certain ... exuberance about you when you watch movies, it would seem.” Castiel didn’t look at Dean but he could tell Dean was studying him.

“You callin’ me funny?” There was no anger in Dean’s voice, only a playfulness.

“It would seem so.”

“Is that why you were laughing last night?”

Now Castiel looked at him. “Last night?”

“After dinner, before we went skating, you laughed but you wouldn’t tell me why.”

“Ohh,” he nodded as he remembered. “No, I was not laughing at you, as I said before, I was laughing at myself.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“I’m not going to explain it.” Castiel looked towards the street. If last night he thought himself silly for thinking of Dean as his lover, the cheesy thoughts he’d had this morning were much worse.

“Are you embarrassed?” Dean’s question broke Castiel from his reverie.

“Do I seem like the sort to get embarrassed?” Castiel shot back, raising a brow and hoping he wasn’t being conspicuous.

“At the moment you do,” the younger man smirked at Castiel in a way that said he was being completely conspicuous.

Rather than answer, Castiel gave Dean a shove at the shoulder and walked on when the other man stumbled to the side. Dean let out a teasing laugh and righted himself, keeping up with Castiel with no trouble at all.

“You are, aren’t you?” Dean set his hands in his pockets and practically strutted, swinging his legs out with each step, chest out and cocky.

“Why are you so pleased by that thought?”

“Because you were probably thinking about me.” Dean shrugged as if it were obvious.

Castiel rolled his eyes but couldn’t very well deny that without looking more obvious. He had never been a particularly skilled liar.

“That’s what I thought.” Dean nodded.

“So about the candy,” Castiel pointedly changed the subject, stopping in front of a shop. Dean nearly missed the sudden action and took a few steps past Castiel. He had to stop on a heel and about-face. Castiel smiled at the blatantly military move.

“The candy?” Dean looked at Castiel, then over at the shop.

“Rather than raisinets at the theater, my plan was to get some candy from Fannie May.” He pointed to the shop door, then walked in. Dean followed behind, looking curious.

“This is some sort of special candy?”

“The best candy.”

“Big words, Novak.”

“They opened about 15 years ago and I’ve never found a finer chocolate.”

“I didn’t know you had such a sweet tooth.” Dean looked around the shop, inspecting the boxes of candies already packaged and the display window housing a variety of truffles.

“Anna has the sweet tooth and so I’ve sampled many chocolatiers to find the best for her. Now every time I go home I have to bring her a box.”

“Oh yeah? That’s nice of you.”

“I may have acquired an appreciation for them, myself.” Castiel admitted and Dean laughed.

“So what do you suggest?”

“It’s too hot to buy too many. They won’t last the day, even in your hotel room, so you should only buy what you can eat now. I’m partial to the dark chocolate mays, they have chocolate filling. Anna likes the raspberry creams.” Castiel pointed to each truffle in the display case. Then he pointed out small green and brown cubes, a little bit bigger than dice. “Their specialty, though, are the mint meltaways”

“Oh yeah?” Dean leaned over Castiel’s shoulder to see the mint meltaways. “I think I’ll give those a try.”

A young lady in an apron behind the counter pulled out the tray for Dean. “Would you care to sample them first? The green ones are made with white chocolate, the brown are milk chocolate.”

“Hey, I never turn down a sample!” He carefully plucked a brown cube from the tray and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, Dean nodded and smiled, making a sound of appreciation. “Those are pretty good! They really do just melt, too, don’t they?”

“That’s where the name comes from,” The young woman beamed happily. “Would you care for a box?”

“Sure, just the smallest box size you have will do. And another of those dark chocolate mays, please?”

“Comin’ right up,” She flashed a smile at Dean, then turned to fill two small boxes of candies, placing a little paper cup-shaped wrapper under each truffle.

“You didn’t have to buy me anything, Dean.” Castiel said quietly, standing by his side.

Dean shrugged, “I know, but you said you liked those.”

“Thank you.” Castiel smiled and while the young woman -- the only other person in the small shop -- wasn’t looking, he reached out and gave Dean’s hand a small squeeze. Dean squeezed his hand right back and flashed a smile that Castiel wanted to kiss. Just then the woman turned back around and they covertly dropped hands.

“Would you like the boxes taped closed or will you be eating these now?”

“I think we’re going to have them now,” Dean explained, stepping back to the counter. He paid for the candies, thanked the girl and they left, wishing each other a good day. Dean pressed the box of truffles into Castiel’s hand and opened his own box, trying another mint candy. “These really are good.”

“I told you, they’re the best. Would you like to try one of mine?” Cas offered his own open box towards Dean.

He took a bite of one of the truffles and his eyes went wide. “Those are fantastic!”

“They are.” Castiel laughed warmly and ate one as Dean finished his. “Anna gets really mad if I visit without bringing her some. She says I’m fortunate that I can get these any time I want, and I suppose I am, but I rarely buy them.”

“You only get them when you visit her, huh?”

“That’s about the size of it. I don’t ever think to visit a shop except on a special occasion.”

“It’s a shame I can’t take any back for Jess. Not that they are likely to survive the train ride back to Kansas. She would probably love them.”

“You will simply have to visit Chicago again another time.”

“Yeah, I oughta.” Dean grinned at Cas, then looked away frowning. “It’s too bad this is my last day here...”

Castiel sighed and turned his gaze to the sky. The sun was already starting to lower; there wasn’t much of the day left. “All good things must come to an end, as they say.”

“Yeah, and this has been good. I’m glad I could visit.”

“Me too,” Castiel admitted, looking over at Dean. He knew in his heart that this was more than a passing attraction. It was more than a hurried kiss in a photobooth or shacking up together just for the sex. This was a friendship born of writing letters and long conversations, shared laughter and teasing, slow kisses and the simple pleasure of holding one another. Though neither man would admit it out loud just yet; it was still too soon and words like “I love you” could be dangerous.

So, instead, they danced around it. They showed each other how they felt as they had that morning, as they no doubt would when it was time to say goodbye, or in veiled words like their conversation now. 

* * *

Back at the hotel, Castiel began packing his small suitcase that he had brought down for the weekend. Dean sat on the foot of the bed watching without comment, except idle conversation about anything other than Cas leaving. They made plans to get dinner and the rest of the night. When everything was put away, Dean reached out to grab Castiel’s wrist and pulled him over. Castiel stood between Dean’s legs and set his hands on Dean’s shoulders while Dean held the backs of Cas’s thighs and looked up to him.

“I’m going to miss you,” Dean admitted quietly.

Castiel smiled and tipped his head. “You will survive, I’m certain.”

“Of course I will, but that’s not the point.”

“I know.” Castiel toyed with Dean’s collar, straightening it though he had no need to. “We can continue to write letters. Keep in touch, so we can meet again.”

“Yeah. Just don’t know when that will be.”

“I know,” Cas repeated, leaning down to press a kiss to Dean’s forehead. They both closed their eyes and Dean wound his arms around Castiel’s waist, hugging him. Dean hoped Castiel felt the same way as he did. He thought surely this morning proved it, but he remained insecure, anyway. What would change when they were apart? Castiel was older, more mature, higher ranking; what if this weekend was more of a fling? What if he saw Dean as a child, and didn’t take it seriously? Too many of these what-ifs plagued Dean and he tightened his arms around Castiel a little more. He couldn’t bring himself to ask, to look so desperate, or to chance admitting he loved Cas if the pilot might not return the feelings.

Dean tried to show Cas the way he felt, he thought maybe Cas caught on, but it was possible he was just seeing what he wanted to see. Castiel was a very internal man and though Dean thought he was good at reading the subtleties in the other man, he could just as easily be wrong. While Dean showed a boastful exterior, inside he was uncertain of his place with Castiel.

Then Cas began running his fingers through the hair at the back of Dean’s head. It was a slow, soothing motion that made Dean hum happily. The feeling of it helped wash away some of his worries, though he knew they would surface later when Cas wasn’t there to soothe his troubled heart. Dean drank it up now while he could.

“Really am gonna miss you,” He whispered against Castiel’s stomach.

“Me too,” Castiel whispered back.

They stayed in that position for a long while before Castiel pulled back. He took Dean’s hands and pulled him to his feet, saying it was time to get dinner. The night remained a little somber as they found a nice restaurant and sat down to their meal. Conversation turned to what the coming months had in store for them. Dean would return to training, Cas to teaching unless he received orders soon. As Castiel put it, he had been in Chicago for longer than he expected and presumed he would be sent on missions soon. For the first time, the thought of Castiel on missions gave Dean pause and reason to worry.

“You’ll be careful, right?” Dean said, before he could stop himself.

“Careful?” Castiel tipped his head, confused.

“If you get sent out to sea, you know, on assignment.” Dean looked down at his plate, focusing on cutting some meat rather than looking at Cas’s reaction.

A moment of silence that was probably barely more than two seconds felt like an eternity to Dean. Then Cas spoke, “Of course.”

Dean looked up and saw the warm, almost bewildered smile on Castiel’s face and tried to relax. “Good. ‘Cause, you should. You know, your wingmen will be counting on you.”

“Yes, they will.” Castiel knew very well what Dean was saying, but he was apparently going to play along anyway. “Lucky for them I’m a very good pilot. And lucky for me, so are they.”

“Right, yeah.” Dean nodded, trying to avoid an awkward silence, but failing at it because he didn’t know what else to say. He really wasn’t accustomed to worrying about people that weren’t his family. What did that make Cas, then?

“You know I’ll write you if I’m going to be sent to sea,” Castiel assured him. “Because I won’t be able to get letters until I return to shore.”

“Good, good. Because I’d like to know.” Dean took a bite of his food and Castiel did the same, letting the act of eating keep them from having to say anything for a moment. Their silence was filled with the music played by the restaurant’s band. Most fancy restaurants had at least a small band to keep the diners entertained, if not a lounge singer or a big band. Jazzy saxaphone music accompanied a piano and easy percussion, lending a relaxed feel to the night. Dean let the music ease his unexpectedly awkward nerves.

When he finished chewing, Dean took a drink of water and cleared his throat, “So what are the plans for the rest of the night?”

“If you’re game for it, I know a good blues club we could go to. It’s a short cab ride from the hotel and some really talented fellows perform there.”

“Fellas,” Dean said. Castiel tipped his head and furrowed his brows and Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “You can’t say ‘fellows’, man. You have to say ‘fellas’ otherwise it just sounds odd.”

Castiel shook his head at Dean, “Some real talented fellas perform there.”

“Swell, we should go, then, will they be playing by the time we finish here?”

“I should think so.”

“We’ll call it a date, then.” Dean flashed a smile at Cas.

“Because this entire weekend hasn’t been a series of dates?” Castiel lowered his voice.

Dean waved his hand and made a face. “A minor detail.”

Castiel chuckled and it made Dean’s heart feel huge in his chest. No one had this kind of effect on Dean and he was glad that, of all people, Cas was the one who did. They finished dinner, each ate a small dessert with a nightcap drink to go with it, paid for their meal and wandered out of the restaurant. On the street, they caught a cab and made way to the blues house Castiel knew. The cab driver questioned them on the location, as it was in a known colored part of town. Though race relations in Chicago were better than in some other places in America, there was still prejudice. With a slight glare, Castiel confirmed where they were going and the driver pulled out into the street to take them there.

The ride was made a little more uncomfortable because of the driver, so Dean and Cas stayed quiet the entire ride there. They were also certain to avoid touching each other any more than necessary. Upon arrival, they paid the driver’s fair excluding any form of tip and got out. As he pulled away, Dean leaned in and muttered to Castiel what he thought of the driver.

“Our fair city’s citizens are not without fault.” Castiel frowned.

“Apparently.” Dean scoffed and looked at the blues house before them. The pair received a few studying glances from men walking in, but they weren’t the only white folks there. Castiel showed indifference it all and Dean wondered if he might be the most forward thinking person Dean had ever met.

Cas had talked about his sister joining the Navy, treated everyone he met with equal respect, regardless of status, rank, appearance, race or creed, wouldn’t bow to shown prejudice and now walked into a club some people would think he had no business going to like it was any other place. Castiel was here for the music, because he truly enjoyed it, and that was reason enough for him. Dean found himself smiling as he walked in behind Cas and they found a seat.

The room was large and yet still crowded with people. Men and women were dressed nicely, some looked like they were still in their church clothes. It was a little more upscale and, as a result, less intimate than the first blues club they went to back in January. Castiel wove his way through the people to take a seat at a small table as close to the stage as was available. The man up on stage was just finishing his performance as they sat and a man walked up to the large microphone.

“Ladies and gents, I wanna thank all of you fine folks for coming out here tonight. Our next performer was born down in Jackson, Tennessee, but he’s been callin’ Chicago home for the past six years and we’re glad to have him. Without any more ado, I give you Sonny Boy Williamson.” The host made a gesture towards the steps onto the stage as he walked off in the opposite direction. Sonny Boy was a young man, probably nearly Dean’s age, with a long, thin face and a huge smile. The crowd whooped and cheered as he came out onto the stage, obviously a fan favorite. He wore a casual suit and pulled a harmonica from the pocket of his blazer. A wave was given to the crowd as he stood in front of the microphone.

“Good evening, ya’ll. I’m gonna go ahead and play some music for you. This here is Honey Bee Blues.” Sonny Boy started the song off with the harmonica, playing a traditional blues melody. Dean glanced around at the other people in the club, some closing their eyes and shaking their heads in beat with the music, wearing little smiles on their lips.

“ _I want you to come on, baby. Now, and take a walk with me._ ” Sonny Boy sang, then played more harmonica. “ _I want you to come on, baby. Now and take a walk with me. Well, then I show you this won't nothin' bother I’ll be your little honey bee._ ” He went on, switching between the harmonica and lyrics, singing about “making honey” for his unnamed lover, taking walks and holding her.

Dean’s eyes strayed over to Castiel, who sat back in his chair, relaxed as he watched the musician performing. He wore his usual neutral expression but Dean spotted the slight smile turning up the corners of his lips. Cas’s head bobbed in small nods along with the slow beat of the music. When Sonny Boy got towards the end of his song and played the harmonica, accompanied by someone else on the piano, Castiel closed his eyes. His expression shifted from carefully neutral to rather serene.

The song ended and Castiel opened his eyes. He caught Dean staring at him and glanced away, but seemed determined not to look embarrassed. Dean couldn’t help but chuckle. “You really like blues, don’t you?”

“I do,” Cas admitted. “I enjoy jazz and swing and big band, of course. It’s just about everywhere. Blues feels more substantial though. A man or woman singing the blues bares their souls to the audience in a way swing does not.”

“Yeah... Yeah, I think I get that.” Dean nodded. The first thought to come to his mind was the way Castiel looked in bed when they were having sex that morning. The way he flushed, expression open and wanting. The way Cas pulled him in, wanting everything Dean had to give him, that seemed about as close to baring one’s soul Dean had seen on another person.

Castiel held Dean’s gaze for a moment, smiled slowly and gave a nod. “Good. That’s good.”

Dean grinned at Cas, then settled back in his chair to enjoy the rest of the show. Sonny Boy sang another dozen or so songs and the whole audience cheered for every song, Dean and Cas included. When their night at the blues club was over, it was dark outside, despite the long daylight hours of summer. Outside, Dean and Cas walked a few blocks before hailing a cab to take them back to their hotel. Dean almost didn’t want to get there, because he didn’t want the night to end. 

* * *

They made their way inside and took the stairs to Dean’s floor and walked slowly through the hallway to the door. Castiel took Dean’s hand and held it tightly on the short walk, while they were alone. Back in the room, Dean closed the door and pulled Castiel to a stop before he could go too far into the room. He leaned back against the door and lifted Cas’s hands to rest on his shoulders. With a laugh, Cas obliged and stepped forward until their hips were touching.

“Don’t go tonight,” Dean said, winding his arms about Cas. His hands started on Cas's hips, moved to his lower back and pulled their bodies flush

Castiel took Dean's face between his hands. "My leave ends tonight. I have to be on duty first thing in the morning."

"Does the first train back leave early enough?" Dean's closed his eyes and tipped his head to brush their noses together.

"Dean..." Castiel closed his eyes as well, sighing out the name.

"One more night, Cas. That's all I'm asking. It might be a year -- longer -- before we get another chance together. Just one more night."

Cas could feel his resolve crumble. He leaned into Dean's hold, pressed their cheeks together. It was warm and safe here. He was comfortable in Dean's arms. There was no doubt this hotel room was a thousand times more welcoming than his lonely dormitory at the base. This hotel bed was a thousand times better than the empty one he called his own.

"I would have to leave before the sun comes up."

"Better than leaving now." Dean kissed at his jaw.

"We can't sleep in together."

"Better than sleeping alone tonight." He kissed Castiel's neck.

Castiel hummed, held tightly to the back of Dean’s neck and witnessed his resolve quietly shatter to pieces. "Dean..."

Then Dean's lips were on his, kissing him hard, walking him back into the room, away from the door through which he was supposed to leave. He wasn't going to leave tonight. Tomorrow morning would be just as difficult, but he didn't have to face it just yet. So he kissed Dean right back, let himself be led back towards the bed. He ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, messing up the perfectly styled and gelled look of his. Cas let Dean pull his tie free, push his suit jacket back off his shoulders. His hands worked Dean’s clothes off as well, both men kicking their shoes off, until they tumbled into the bed.

They stretched out on the bed, touching and kissing each other, necking like teenagers up at lookout point. Their hands were everywhere, messing up each other’s hair, grabbing onto arms or pressing to chest or back. Their clothes were rumpled and sloppy, shirts half untucked, suspenders falling off their shoulders and socks half off. Half way through, Dean began laughing, a warm and beautiful sound to Castiel’s ears.

“What are you laughing at?” Castiel was surprised by how breathless he was.

“Nothing, just this, you, us. It’s...” Dean couldn’t think of the words he wanted, apparently, because he began kissing Castiel again. He rolled Cas over onto his back and held himself up on an arm. He ran one hand down Castiel’s chest, stopping it on his stomach. It made Castiel arch his back, feeling his stomach flutter beneath Dean’s fingers.

When their lips pulled apart again, Castiel blinked up at Dean, “I think I understand.”

“It’s too bad this weekend can’t go on forever.” Dean lamented, looked down at his hand on Castiel’s stomach.

“The memories will,” Cas assured him, reaching up to cup Dean’s cheek, tilting his head back up so their eyes could meet. “Just like our first kiss, as I promised then, I won’t soon forget this weekend.”

“That was a pretty good kiss, huh?” Dean crooked a grin.

“It was. As all the others after it have been, as well.”

“Yeah...” Dean leaned down and kissed Castiel again, slower and more gentle this time. They both hummed into it and let it linger, trailing shorter kisses after it. Then Dean settled on the bed, resting his head on Castiel’s shoulder.

Cas raised a hand to comb through Dean’s hair, enjoying the weight of the other man against him. “We will meet again. We will do this again.”

“We will,” Dean nodded, sounding certain. “And it will be grand.”

“It will.” Castiel smiled.

They stayed like that, comfortable in each other’s arms until they found the energy to undress just before falling asleep. 

* * *

_**22 July, 1940** _

Castiel woke the next morning with Dean curled around him. He was lying on his back and Dean was sprawled across his chest, head tucked up against Cas’s neck, arm draped over his torso. He was relatively trapped by the slumbering man and had to very carefully extricate himself without waking Dean. It was tricky work, but as Castiel stood from the bed, Dean shifted and nuzzled into the bed pillow and curled into the blankets. Moving quietly through the room, Castiel gathered up all his belongings. He washed up quickly in the bathroom and packed away those items. Everything else was packed the previous afternoon.

After a sweep through the room for anything else of his, Castiel sighed. It was ridiculously early, the sun had yet to raise, but the first trains would be leaving very soon and he was already cutting it close to making it back to base in time to change into uniform and start training. Unpacking was going to have to wait until after training. The mental checklist Cas was going through vanished the moment he laid eyes on Dean’s sleeping figure once more. He sighed again and swallowed hard when he realized this was the last time he would see Dean for a long, long time. Stepping forward, he took a seat on the edge of the bed.

Castiel reached out a hand and brushed some of Dean’s hair back from his face. Dean mumbled something incoherent in his sleep and nuzzled into Cas’s hand. The pilot couldn’t help but smile. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Dean’s brow, then gently shook him awake.

Dean mumbled something again and didn’t seem to want to wake up.

“Dean, I have to go.”

That worked to rouse Dean. He blinked and lifted a hand to rub at an eye, then saw Cas, clean and dressed to leave, and everything flooded back to the man. “Hey, Cas...”

“Hello, Dean,” Cas smiled.

“Guess it’s more like goodbye now, though.” Dean sat up and scooted over in the bed to be closer to Cas. “What time is it?”

“Almost 0400. You should go back to sleep after I go.”

Dean chuckled quietly, “Just might, if I can. So this is it?”

“This is it,” Castiel confirmed, trying to keep his smile in place.

“Kiss for the road?” Dean offered. Castiel didn’t answer, instead he leaned forward and pressed a long, hard kiss to Dean’s lips. To his credit, the half asleep man returned it in equal measure. They held onto each other like lifelines and even as the kiss broke apart, they kept their faces pressed together, eyes closed.

“Take care of yourself,” Dean said, voice hoarse.

Castiel kissed him once more, shorter this time, and finally pulled back, opening his eyes. “I will, of course. You do the same, Dean.”

“Sure thing, Cas.” Dean opened his eyes and Cas blamed the look in those green hues on how tired the man must be.

“I’ll see you again, sometime soon.” He cupped Dean’s cheek one last time and forced a smile as he stood from the edge of the bed.

“See ya’ ‘round, kid,” Dean joked and it made Castiel laugh.

“That should be my line.”

“You should have used it, then.”

Castiel laughed again, backing up away from the bed and Dean. “See ya’ ‘round, kid.”

Dean was smiling, warm and amused, and that was the way Cas wanted to remember him before they part ways. So he turned away at that moment and made for the door. He grabbed his bags and walked out, knowing that if he paused for even a moment, that taking another step would become too difficult. He kept putting one foot in front of the other and didn’t stop until he reached the train station. It was only then that he felt the sharp stab of heartache that came with leaving Dean.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prior to posting this chapter, I wrote a ficlet as a gift because of how long it was taking to post this chapter. If you would like to read it, it's still [right here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/941696). It is just a sweet, happy ficlet that involves Dean and Cas from this story. It's a look at a possible future for them, but to avoid spoilers, it can't be called "canon". If you read it, I hope you enjoy it! And I hope you enjoy the chapter below~ There are a few of songs referenced in it, so for your convenience, there are links to them all in the footnotes.

**_9 August, 1940_ **

_Castiel,_

_I left Chicago barely two weeks ago and it already feels like forever. So much has happened. We finally got our division designation! I’m now a member of the 9th Infantry Division. We were activated on the 1st. This doesn’t mean we’re getting shipped out, though, still just in training, but now we’re official. We got patches on our uniforms and everything. And Benny, Ash and I are all in the same platoon!  It’s nice to know they’ll have my back and I can have theirs. How are things going up at the Naval base? I hope you’re doing well. I know it’s too soon to visit again or even to start thinking about it. I think about it anyway._

_Things are going well here. We are training in long range artillery and I’m not really allowed to go into specifics, but it’s great fun, I’m tellin’ you. Have you heard any word yet of when you’re going to sea again? I bet it will be nice to see your squad buddies again. I feel like I have more to say but I can’t find the words. Guess I’ll just say... take care of yourself._

_See you around, kid._

_Dean_

 

Castiel sighed and leaned back against the headboard of his bed after he finished reading Dean’s short letter. It was harder now than it had been before. Letters didn’t feel like quite enough, somehow. They couldn’t say all the things they wanted to say, for fear of being read by someone else. Sometimes letters were spot-checked by officials, which was why Dean couldn’t explain what weapons he was using, but as a result, any tender words of love were forced into veiled references. _Take care of yourself. See you around, kid._ The words echoed in Cas’s mind, the memory of Dean, half asleep in the bed, saying them before he left the hotel last month.

He closed his eyes and set the letter aside. Cas decided he would write his reply in the morning, knowing he would have just as much trouble as Dean in finding the right words.

* * *

**_15 August, 1940_ **

_Dean,_

_Congratulations on your division! It must be a very proud moment for all of you. You will surely be busy with new training now. It may seem like forever before you get to go to battle, but the day will come soon enough and you will be glad of the training by then. Perhaps it’s the instructor in me speaking. Having friends in your platoon will be very nice. I must admit, I don’t know how big a platoon is. We usually have about 16 in a squadron, and we have more than one squad on the carrier. It occurs to me now that I have no clue how an infantry division is split up, or whether it is akin to naval aviation, or more similar to our ships._

_Everything at the base is the same. Nothing new to report. Same students, same fellow trainers. I haven’t got word of deployment any time soon. I think another batch of cadets will be coming in, though, so there is that. New faces can be nice, but I prefer training the more experienced pilots. As for me, I’m getting by. Some days, time seems to drag and I will admit I get caught up in daydreams when nothing else is going on. It’s too soon to need another vacation._

_I’m going to have to chastise you for stealing my lines again. Don’t forget who the kid is here, kid._

_Take care, kid!_

_Cas_

 

Reading over the bottom of the letter, Dean laughed. He found a piece of paper and sat back on his bunk to write out his reply to Cas. Everyone was just relaxing after a long day in the field training with a Browning machinegun. Benny was on the bunk beside him, working on a crossword, and Ash, on the one above, was reading a book. A few people across the dormitory chatted quietly together; this was about the only free time they ever got before lights out.

Dean was keeping to himself as he wrote the letter to Cas but as he got to the end, he didn’t want to sign and seal the letter without saying something more to the man who occupied his mind more often than he would admit to anyone. The problem was that he had no idea how to say it. After chewing his lip in thought for a moment, he turned to Benny.

“How do you say something without saying it?”

Benny looked over with his brows drawn together, “What?”

“If you want to say something, but you can’t really say it, how do you say it?”

“In my experience... you don’t.” Benny shrugged.

“Thanks, that’s really helpful.”

At that time, Ash stopped reading and leaned down over the side of his bed to look at them, “What are you two bozos yammering about?”

“Dean’s talking in riddles. This is one for you,” Benny said and leaned back on his bed again.

“Okay, look, I want to say something, right, but I can’t really just say it.”

“What is it you want to say?” Ash asked.

“It’s kind of personal.”

“Well, why can’t you just say it.”

He had to come up with some explanation to get out of this. “I’m trying to ... give my brother advice, but I can’t say it outright, in case our parents happen to read it, you know what I mean?”

“Ohhhh,” Ash said, a smile spreading across his lips. “You’re giving little brother sex advice, huh?”

“Uh, well...” Dean really should have seen that assumption coming.

“Well, you know, you can be all hypothetical, you know. Say, for instance, _if_ he’s going to be with a lady then maybe he should consider...” Ash gestured with a hand to imply whatever Dean wanted to say. “Or, you could be metaphorical. Say, little bro, you oughta take your time learning to ride a bike, take it nice and slow.”

He elongated the words ‘nice’ and ‘slow’ in a way that was overtly sexual and Dean held up a hand to stop him, “Alright, that’s enough! I got it!”

Ash scoffed and looked comically betrayed, “You don’t wanna hear about how I ride a bike?”

“Ain’t nobody wanna hear about you riding,” Benny chimed in, shaking his head.

“Y’all are just being rude now,” Ash shook his head and both Dean and Benny laughed.

“Thanks, fellas, I think I’ve got it figured out now.”

“Just remember to tell him to be careful. Don’t want any surprise tricycles.” Ash said as he laid back on his bed and Benny started chuckling.

“Yeah, thanks.” Dean rolled his eyes but he went back to writing his letter to Cas, having gotten an idea about how to finish the letter after all.

* * *

**_20 August, 1940_ **

_Dear Cas,_

_We are all pretty proud of the division designation. It is great having friends in the same platoon. So the way it works is that there are 4 guys to a fireteam, and then about 8 to 12 in a squad, which is like your squadrons, probably. Above a squad is the platoon, which can be as small as 20-some men or as big as 60-some. We have about 52 in ours. We’ve been divided up into squads and fireteams, but because they’re for training purposes, they said they’ll switch those around from time to time, so we all get used to working with each other._

_Time would drag around here if I didn’t have Ash and Benny to keep me entertained. I know you have friends in your squad, but do you have any other folks to spend time with at the base? Go spend a night at a blues club and have a drink for me, since I can’t leave the fort. There’s nothing wrong with a little daydreaming, long as you aren’t supposed to be doing anything else.  Say, didn’t Ozzie Nelson have a song about dreams? I think my mom used to listen to it a lot when I was a teenager._

_And I told you, if you want to use that line, you have to say it first, kid!_

_Dean_

_P.S. You ever been in a situation where you miss someone so much it hurts?_

 

The last line, that last question, made Cas suck in a breath as he read it. He immediately wanted to write back, but that didn’t feel fast enough. Cas wished they both had private telephone lines, that he could just call Dean, wished they could hear each other’s voices for a moment. When stealing a plane and flying to North Carolina somehow felt like a good idea, Cas knew he needed to get ahold of himself. He set the letter down and scrubbed his hands over his face.

There was something maddening about Dean. He always wanted to answer the man’s call, to be there with him. Thinking about his face, his smile, his hands or body made everything worse. Cas _hadn’t_ ever been in a situation where he missed someone so much it hurt until now. When he was younger, he had been infatuated with other boys and pined after them, but this felt like more, and dangerously so.

It was more than just Dean’s looks and his body that Cas missed. He missed the way Dean laughed at his jokes, the kind of jokes other men didn’t catch. He missed the way the man made him feel. Dean thought he was funny and attractive, he didn’t find Cas stoic or boring. Everything about the infantryman was refreshing, he was fun to be around and made Cas feel young again.

The only trouble was that he felt young around Dean because Dean was young. Only a handful of years younger, but at an age where men don't typically take matters of the heart all too seriously. Were Dean’s feelings long-lasting or just infatuation? It was an answer only time could tell and the distance between them would force an answer out one way or another.

Shaking these dire thoughts from his head, Cas read over Dean’s letter again. He got caught up on the line about Ozzie Nelson and stopped, not sure what song Dean was talking about. He would have been a teenager in the early ‘30s, but Cas was already well into military training by then. He set Dean’s letter aside, hidden safely away in his desk, and left his small apartment on the base to go find some of the other folks in the recreational areas.

It was Tuesday night, just after dinner time and while the officers who did training were allowed to leave, they were too far from anywhere to go out and still get a decent night’s sleep. Anyone who wanted to socialize and have some fun ended up in a lounge where they could listen to music, play ping pong or pool, or chat with each other. Cas really wasn’t close to any of the officers here, but he talked to them socially every so often.

He found the officers that were listening to music on the radio and offered them a smile, recognizing one of them.

“Evening Novak. Decided to join us for once?” The man, a Lieutenant Page, asked.

“In a manner of speaking,” Cas shrugged. “I had a question, actually.”

“Oh yeah? What can I help you with?”

“It’s vague, but, do you remember a tune Ozzie Nelson did about dreams? Would have been maybe eight or ten years ago?”

Page hummed in thought, stroking his chin, “I thought he only made his break around ‘30 or so. Must have been an early one.”

The other man, who Cas didn’t know, tipped his head in thought, “Something about dreams, you say?”

“Yes.”

“Hey Vic, you remember an old Ozzie Nelson song about dreams?” The second man called to one of the guys by the pool table. The guy turned to them and looked up to the ceiling in thought. After a moment he snapped his fingers and pointed at them.

“Dream a Little Dream of Me?” He asked Page’s friend. The friend looked at Cas.

“That it?”

“It could be... Someone just made a mention of it in a letter and I didn’t know what it was.” His heart began beating faster at the thought that this is what Dean’s message had been.

Page grinned and elbowed Cas. “Did you get yourself a girl? Is she leaving you hints?”

“That’s personal.” Cas said, managing to keep a straight face. “Thank you.” He turned to walk away.

“Hey now,” Page called after him. “You came out here just to ask a question and leave?”

“I...” Castiel hesitated.

“Oh, stay out with us for one night. It won’t kill you.”

He remembered Dean asking if he had any friends and the fact that being with his own friends helped make the time pass by a little faster. Nodding to the fellow Lieutenant, he said, “I suppose it won’t.”

* * *

**_24 August, 1940_ **

Castiel hadn’t finished his letter to Dean yet, but he had a good reason for delay. While he had discovered the name of the song Dean was referencing, he wanted to hear it before responding. The problem being that there were no copies of that record on base, at least, none that he was aware of. So on a Saturday morning, Cas walked down to the nearest record shop in town. In the middle of the day, it would be full of kids listening to and buying records, but if he was there early enough he might get a chance to put his own choice of record on, before all the kids woke up.

While Chicago was a long train ride away, the small town of Great Lakes had enough amenities that were only a short hike to get to. No town was a town at all without a record shop these days, so it was easy enough to find one. A little bell jingled as he walked through the door and Cas was happy to find the shop mostly empty. A young woman with bright red-orange hair stood behind the counter and offered him a smile.

“Morning, sir. Anything I can help you find?”

“Yes... I was looking for an Ozzie Nelson record. It wouldn’t be new, though.”

The young lady came out from behind the counter and walked him over to a section of the store where an “N” was written by the boxes of records. “Nelson, Nelson... Here we are. These are all the records with have by him.”

“Thank you, I’ll look through them.”

“Sure, let me know if you need more help.” She smiled, then went back over to the counter to flip through a magazine.

Cas began looking through the records. He had no clue which album the song was on, so he had to check all the track listings. The very last album in the box had “Dream a Little Dream Of Me” on it. Picking it up, Cas held his breath, wondering if he wanted to play it in the store after all. He glanced around. There were two men on their own and a woman with a little girl in the shop, as well as the lady at the counter. If he bought the album and took it back to base to listen to, that would require a lot more explaining if anyone asked. This seemed easier.

“Ma’am. Would it be alright if I play this track?” He asked, pointing to the album.

“Go right ahead. The player is right there.” She pointed to a small table with a phonograph placed on it.

He walked over and set the record spinning, dropping the needle in the right place between the grooves. The song began with a somewhat old fashioned sounding little ditty, cute and bouncy. Cas smiled at thinking of a young Dean listening to this. It just didn’t seem his style. Then the lyrics began and Cas paid close attention.

The first line caught Cas off guard, and he thought, surely, Dean wasn’t being intentional with his message. The line said “Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper I love you.” They hadn’t said such a thing out loud to one another, or even began to discuss it. He listened on and discovered the rest of the song had more of the message that Cas had expected. Lines like, “While I’m alone as blue as can be, dream a little dream of me.” Or, “Stars fading but I linger on dear, still craving your kiss.”

It was a ridiculously romantic song, the whole way through, and it made Cas smile like a schoolboy. Perhaps it was just the first song Dean thought of when Cas mentioned daydreaming; perhaps it was just because his mother played it so often when he was younger. Maybe it was just the song title that was his message, that Dean hoped while Cas was daydreaming, that he dreamed of Dean. Which, of course, he did, as he was practically doing now.

“Like that one?” The young woman’s voice broke Cas from his thoughts.

“I’m sorry?” He looked over at her and the record continued on to the next track.

“You were smiling real bright, seemed you really liked it.”

“Oh, yes. It’s a very good song.”

“Remind you of your sweetheart?” She propped her chin on her hand and smiled dreamily at him. There must have been lots of navy men that came through town missing their sweethearts back home.

Cas distracted himself by stopping the record and putting the needle back on its rest. He couldn’t get rid of the bashful smile, though. “It does.”

“Aww...” The girl fawned. “Would you like to buy it?”

He had no intention of buying the record when he came in, but now it seemed rude to come in and listen to it without purchasing anything. So he nodded to her and slipped the record back into its sleeve and brought it over to the counter.

“Is there anything else I can help you with? Maybe picking a song to send back?” She smiled brightly at him and Cas realized that she was right.

“Oh, yes... I suppose I should have a reply ready. Are there any good newer tunes?”

“You know Billboard, the magazine, they have a whole list of the best selling songs now! They just started it last month.” She pointed to the magazine she had been flipping through. Sure enough there was a chart of the best songs from just last week. Cas glanced through the list and stopped on one.

“How does this Glenn Miller one go?”

“The Nearness Of You? Oh, it’s grand, actually kind of goes nicely with the one you just played. But it’s all about how being near to his sweetheart makes him feel so good.” She explained with an excited smile.

“Glenn Miller was playing the night we met...” Cas mentioned, realizing too late what he had said.

“Well, then this is perfect! It’s been on the radio a lot, so she should have no trouble recognizing it if she listens a lot.”

Of course she would assume his sweetheart was a girl, and there was no need to correct her. Castiel relaxed and agreed. “Yes, it seems like a good choice.”

“Would you like to hear it?”

“Sure,” He nodded and she found the record and put it on. After listening to it the whole way through, Cas found he agreed with her about the choice. “Yes, this is perfect.”

“Glad to help!” The girl rang up the Ozzie Nelson record for him and Cas paid.

“I may be back again while I’m still stationed here. What’s your name, miss?”

“Charlie! I’m here most of the time and I’ll be happy to help you again.”

“Nice to meet you, Charlie. My name is Cas.” He tipped his hat to her politely. “Have a good day.”

“You too! Enjoy your record.”

“Thank you.” Cas left the shop, still smiling and feeling lighthearted. When he got back to the base, he would write Dean’s letter and hopefully finish it before the mail left for the day.

* * *

**_29 August, 1940_ **

_Dean,_

_I would like to start by apologizing for my late response. I got a little sidetracked after reading your letter, I must admit. You asked if I had any friends on base and also about an Ozzie Nelson song. To be honest, I only have acquaintances here on base, fellow training officers, so making time pass can be difficult. But I took your advice. When I didn’t know which song you were referring to, I went down to the officer’s lounge and asked an acquaintance of mine, Lt Page, if he knew what it was. There was quite an interesting game of everyone nearby trying to figure it out. Another fella, man named Plant, remembered the name of it. I intended to go back and write to you once I knew the song, but they convinced me to stay a while and play some pool. I lost, but it was fun anyway. I’ll get them the next time._

_You would think, then, the next time I was free that I would write to you, only I realized that just knowing the name of the song wasn’t really enough. I wanted to listen to it, so I took a walk down to the record store on Saturday and gave it a listen. Seems it’s one of Nelson’s earlier songs and I could see how your mother would like it, if she spent a lot of time away from your father, when he was enlisted. It’s a good song for when your lover is far away. Our friend Glenn Miller has a good one out now, I learned at the record shop. It was number 7 on Billboard Magazine’s new list of best selling singles for August 17. Maybe you’ll like it._

_Also, I know the feeling you asked about... missing someone so much it hurt. I have a gal, she has sandy brown hair, green eyes and the best smile I’ve ever seen, from a little town in Kansas. You would think a man’s heart could break from missing someone that much. Folks say that it gets easier with time, don’t they? I don’t know how true it is, though. I bet the one you miss also misses you just as bad._

_Take care of that heart of yours, kid._

_Cas_

The words, “I have a gal” almost undid all the excitement Dean had at the prospect of Cas not only understanding his coded song message but responding in kind. That is, until he read the part about a little town in Kansas. He smiled dumbly as he read over the description of the “gal” and realized Cas meant him. When he read the last few sentences, Dean was shocked he could ever suspect the pilot of trying to hurt him.

He read the whole letter over again, then a third time, until he realized he felt a lot like a girl and almost blushed. It was a damn good thing that none of the other guys were nearby to see him grinning from ear to ear like a lovesick teenager. They would be liable to steal the letter, thinking it was from a dame. Dean wondered if maybe he had to be sure he read all his letters from Cas in private from now on.

Grabbing a scrap of paper, Dean quickly jotted down the information about Billboard Magazine, then put away the letter from Cas. He wanted to go find this list of songs and see which one Cas wanted him to listen to, but it was too close to lights out to go now. Ash and Benny had just walked in the door and were heading over to their bunks.

“Well, if that ain’t the biggest smile I seen on you in days,” Benny drawled as he looked at Dean. “What happened?”

“Yeah, you’ve been looking all itchy lately. Fact...” Ash turned to Benny. “It’s always after mail call he gets so down.”

“You know I think you’re onto somethin’ there, Harvelle.”

“You two can stop now.” Dean said, purposefully not looking at them. He tried to scowl, but it wasn’t working.

“I think Winchester has someone he’s sweet on.” Ash elbowed Benny in the side. “What do you say?”

“Thinkin’ he might,” Benny agreed.

“Thinkin’ you two might want to shut your mouths before I shut ‘em for you,” Dean waved a fist at them, though everyone knew it was an empty threat.

“Sounds like confirmation to me,” Ash joked and climbed up to his bunk.

“Sounds like.”

“Oh yeah, Benny, how’s Andrea doing?” Dean figured changing the subject to someone else’s love life was safer.

“Ohh, the Greek Princess!” Ash said, leaning over his bed. “Yeah, how is she?”

“Lovely as ever.” Benny, unfazed, said with a grin and plopped down on his bed. He reached back beneath his pillow and opened a small book to pull a photograph out from between the pages. “Actually, glad you mentioned her, brother. I figure lookin’ at her face is a mite nicer than either of your faces.”

“Yeah, just don’t start polishing your bicycle and we’re all good,” Ash called down to him.

“You’re really never going to drop that analogy, are you?” Dean rolled his eyes.

“If the shoe fits!”

They all chuckled and Dean glanced over at Benny for a moment before looking away. He had a picture of Cas that he could look at, but not right now. Not when it was a photograph of their first kiss, kept safely hidden away in the bottom of his dufflebag, shoved into the bottom of his footlocker. Dean had decided to keep it hidden in the pocket Bible his mother gave him before he enlisted. He figured it was the last place anyone would look for anything incriminating.

Since he couldn’t look at it, though, Dean settled for closing his eyes and imagining Cas’s face, his smile, the mischievous light in his eyes whenever he was making a joke. He thought about the man’s deep, gravelly voice and the unexpected fullness of his laugh and his smooth, hard muscles. A smile spread across Dean’s face as he pressed his cheek into the pillow, imagining Cas’s neck and the light prickle of his stubble before he shaved in the morning. Dean had it bad, he knew, and he really didn’t care.

* * *

**_2 September, 1940_ **

Labor Day meant the infantrymen and all of their training officers were given the day off in observation of the federal holiday. No one was complaining, least of all Dean. He, Ash and Benny made a trip into town with their time off to do a little shopping around, eat food that didn’t come from the cafeteria and drink some beers. While they were in town, they wandered past a record shop and Dean slowed to a stop.

“Hey, guys, mind if we go in here?”

“Sure,” Ash shrugged, as did Benny, and they followed Dean inside. Both men wandered aimlessly into the aisles to look at the records while Dean went straight for the counter. The shop was busy with local teenagers, all free from school for the day. Music was playing and they danced around, chatting about how they liked this song or that and the girls said how dreamy some of the singers were.

At the counter was a scrawny looking guy with mousey features and messy hair. What he lacked in appearance he made up for with a big, goofy smile as he greeted Dean.

“Hi there, sir. Something I can help you with?”

“Yeah, uh, do you have that magazine, Billboard?”

“Oh yeah, sure, right here.” He turned around and dug through papers on a desk beside him and pulled out the magazine. “We subscribed to it when they started their hit list back in July.”

“Actually, I was wondering if maybe you still had the list from August 17th?”

“I think we might...” He went off into a back room and returned a minute later, flipping through the pages. When he found the list, he set it down in front of Dean. “Here it is.”

Dean scanned down to number 7, to find Glenn Miller’s name next to the song The Nearness of You. “Do you have this one?”

“Naturally! The girls are playing it right over there.” He leaned over the counter and called out to the girls near the record player. “Hey ladies, think you can start that record over again?”

“Sure thing, Garth!” One of them replied before picking up the needle and flipping the record over back to the A side.

“That’ll be the one,” The clerk, Garth, informed Dean.

“Thanks.”

“Any time!”

Dean walked over to where the girls were all listening to the music and a couple of them tittered and giggled when they saw him in uniform. This probably wasn’t the ideal way to listen to a song from Cas, but there wasn’t much choice in the matter. The song was mostly instrumental at the start, before Glenn Miller began to sing, three short verses and one couplet, all about how there was nothing he wanted but to be near to his lover. No pale moon, no conversation, no soft light nothing delighted him so much as the nearness of who he was singing to.

The line that stood out most to Dean was, “When you're in my arms and I feel you so close to me, all my wildest dreams came true.”

One of the girls sighed, “Oh, I dream of a guy saying something like that to me...”

“Me too!” Said another.

About then Benny and Ash came over to them, Benny throwing an arm around Dean as he did so, “Picking up ladies, Winchester?”

“No, just listening to a song.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Don’t mind these two,” Ash said, waving off Dean and Benny. “They’re spoken for. I, on the other hand...”

“Ash, they’re school girls...” Dean grabbed him by the shoulder and tugged him away. Benny let Dean move out from under his arm and tipped his hat to the girls.

“Have a good day, ladies.” He drawled out with all his southern charm. Dean could hear all the girls giggling as they walked out. It didn’t matter, Dean got what he came for; he heard the song Cas sent him back and smiled to himself as they ambled down the street.

* * *

**_4 September, 1940_ **

“Lieutenant Novak. We got a telegram for you,” said the clerk, as Cas passed the mail office Wednesday morning. He slowed to a stop and turned around, walking back.

“I do?” He reached out and took the small piece of paper and read over it with a smile.

Lt Castiel Novak

It is almost your birthday.

We should have lunch in Chicago.

How is the 14th?

Anna

“I didn’t know your birthday was close,” the clerk said.

Cas wanted to make a remark about reading his messages, but bit his tongue. “Yes, a little later this month.” He gestured with the paper. “It’s from my sister.”

“Ahh, I see.” The clerk looked as though he considered asking what day, but thought better of it. “You have a good day, sir.”

“You too, corporal.” He nodded, then moved on, making his way to the telephones. There, he asked the operator to connect him to his home and waited for someone to answer, hoping it would be Anna.

“Novak Residence,” her chipper young voice said and Cas smiled.

“Yes, I would like to speak with a Miss Anna Novak, please?”

“Speaking, how may I help you?”

“I was wondering if you would like to dine with me in Chicago, perhaps on Saturday the 14th of September.”

“Oh, well, I am a very busy girl, I will have to check my schedule and see if I might be able to pencil you in. Who is this, mysterious man?”

“Lieutenant Castiel Novak,” He said, putting emphasis on the Lieutenant.

“Oh my word! Someone so important! I’m sure I could fit you in.” She sounded comically impressed.

“I should hope so,” Castiel laughed. “How are you, Anna?”

“Getting by, you know. Missing my brother desperately, though.”

“So it would seem. I got your telegram.”

“Well, I hadn’t presumed you had acquired clairvoyance since the last time I saw you.”

He laughed again. “Not as such. Lunch sounds nice though. Will it just be you?”

There was a beat of silence before Anna answered, “I thought I would take the train up by myself. It would be nice, you know, just the two of us.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” He assured her. It was likely that she hadn’t told their parents of her plan to come meet him. They would send a card with money and names impassively signed to the bottom.

“Same place as always?” She asked, chipper again.

“Of course. About noon?”

“Of course!” Said in a teasing echo. “I’ll see you then. Love you, brother.”

“You, too, sis.” Cas hung up the phone with a smile. Every year, Anna made a special effort for him on his birthday, as he did on hers. Growing up, all they had was each other, and so they would always look out for one another.

Anna put Cas in a good mood and it stuck with him the rest of the day. It was only a few hours later that he realized he never told Dean it was almost his birthday. He resolved, that when he got his next letter from Dean, he would tell the man in his response. Though there was nothing Dean could really do for his birthday, nor did Cas expect anything from him, it was just a date he wanted the man to know.

* * *

**_9 September, 1940_ **

_Cas,_

_Sorry to send you on a wild goose chase after that song, but it sounds like it might have helped you pass the time. Lt Page and that guy, Plant, seem nice. Have you managed to beat them in pool yet? Maybe we should play a round next time we get to visit, if we have the time. I’m not half bad at it, myself. Sammy and I used to play together in the summers when he got to high school. Actually, funny story, we sometimes used to place bets on the game. He and I would kind of look really bad while we were “practicing” and then some guys would come up and challenge us. We would ask if they wanted to put money on the game, then when we started to play we would actually try to do well and win the game, easy. Little pool sharks in the making. I would try it here, but I don’t think soldier’s take too well to being cheated!_

_I found the Glenn Miller song you mentioned, by the way. Benny, Ash and I went out on the town on Labor Day because we were given the day off from training. The record shop was jam packed so I didn’t get much chance to look around, but I did get to listen to it. I’ve heard it on the radio before, it’s been popular for a few weeks. It’s a great song for sweethearts, definitely made me think of mine. There was even a line about dreams! Seems we’re on a dream kick. This one doesn’t have any dreams in it, but might be good for your faraway sweetheart, “When the Swallows Come Back to Capistrano.” Our boy Glenn did a version of it, but the Ink Spots one is more popular._

_Your sweetheart from Kansas sounds like a real winner. My gal is up north, has the softest hair and the bluest eyes. She makes me laugh like no one else I met, without even meaning to sometimes. You know, I’d almost give anything just to touch her again, or hear my baby’s voice. I don’t know that it gets any easier with time, just seems to be harder the longer we’re apart. But I’ve got a photo of us together and that helps a little. I think we both probably miss each other just about the same._

_Now look at me, getting all sappy._

_Dean_

 

Cas smiled fondly and set the letter aside. He got up from his desk and rifled through his belongings until he found the half torn photo strip with the two pictures of himself and Dean. He didn’t take it out too often and it was still crisp and flat, just raggedy along the bottom edge where it had been torn. For the first time since they had the pictures taken, Cas wished he had given Dean the top half and kept the bottom half with their kiss for himself. Maybe one day they could find another photobooth and take the pictures over again. It would be nice to have another one.

He sat down on the edge of his bed and just admired the look of Dean’s face. His hard jawline, his open and friendly smile. The black and white photo didn’t really do him justice, seeing the color of his eyes or hair or lips might have helped more, too. Sighing, Cas fell back on his bed and closed his eyes. The both of them would need to get a grip and fast if they were going to survive being separated. Other men and women managed, they could, too. The only problem was, other men and women were allowed to be open about missing each other.

* * *

**_14 September, 1940_ **

At 9:30 in the morning, Cas caught the train out of Great Lakes heading for Chicago to meet his little sister, who was coming up from Pontiac. She had a longer trip to make than he did, but Cas wanted to get there early and meet her at the station. They always went to the same restaurant whenever they met up for a meal in Chicago. It was a little family owned place called Emmanuel’s that wasn’t especially fancy, but felt homey and comfortable in a way they both liked.

Castiel hadn’t been able to visit with Anna in several months and was excited to see her again now. He stood at the platform where he train was going to arrive with his hands in his pockets, staring down the tracks. When it finally pulled up, he could see Anna at the window, her bright hair made her easy to spot. She flashed him a grin before she vanished, only to appear moments later at the steps, coming down off the train, wearing her favorite pale blue dress, white gloves and a pretty hat. Despite the cool, early autumn air, she wasn’t wearing a jacket and Cas bit his tongue to keep from chastising her about it. He could tell her off all he wanted, she would still do exactly as she pleased.

“Cas!” She said and hurried over to him. He held out both arms and pulled her into a warm embrace when she was near.

“How are you, little sister?” He pulled back to look her over.

“Peachy keen,” Anna flashed another smile and shrugged. “Maybe a little hungry.”

“Good thing lunch is in the plans.” Cas hooked an arm around hers and led her away from the train station and towards their restaurant, a few blocks away. “I have a gift for you.”

“Cas, you aren’t supposed to give people gifts on your birthday.”

“It isn’t my birthday yet and I’m always allowed to give you gifts.” He pulled from his pocket a small box which contained two strawberry buttercream candies, Anna’s favorite.

She opened the box and then squeezed his arm in a hug, “Yum! I want one now.”

“You’ll spoil your appetite,” he warned.

“Too bad! Should have waited to give them to me!” She bit the first one in half and kept the second in the box, which she stored in her purse for after lunch. “Want half?”

Cas shook his head, “No, they’re yours.”

“Suit yourself!” She popped the second half into her mouth and savored it. After swallowing it down, she spoke again. “I suppose you’re wondering what your birthday gift is.”

“It occurred to me that you might have one, but I didn’t have any expectations.”

Anna looked up at him with a slight glare. “You’re supposed to be excited, Castiel.”

“Am I?” He stared back in faux confusion, tipping his head. “Is that written in the Rules of Birthdays?”

“It is, you know very well it is. Now you should promptly get excited.”

“If I must...” He nodded, frowning in deep concern. After a slow breath to gather himself, Cas looked down at Anna, making his eyes go wide and a broad, fake smile on his lips. “What did you get for me, Anna?”

She tried to keep a straight face, but it eventually dissolved into laughter. She shoved him by the shoulder, pushing him away. “You’re ridiculous. Just for that, I’m not showing you until after lunch.”

“Aw, shucks!” He snapped, playing at being dejected, but he couldn’t help the genuine smile on his face after toying with his sister.

“Why was I blessed with such a strange brother?”

“I was the only one who could tame such a strange sister?” He offered.

“You couldn’t tame me any more than you could tame a lion!”

“A tiger, more like,” He said, tugging at a lock of her hair and she batted his hand away. They arrived at Emmanuel’s and dropped the conversation as they were seated at a table and placed their orders.

“So tell me how things are going for you?” Anna set her napkin in her lap while they waited for their meals.

“Fairly well, all things considered. We got new cadets in last month and while some of them aren’t too bad, they still need a lot of training.”

“Do they at least know how to fly?” Anna asked around a smirk.

“You could outmaneuver them, but they seem to have the basics down.”

“You should tell them that. I’d be glad to show them a thing or two.”

“I’ll bet you would,” Cas chuckled.

“Has anything else been going on lately? Other than training subpar pilots?” It seemed as if she was getting at something specific.

“How do you mean?”

“You seem... happier than usual lately.” Anna studied Cas, face serious. “Not that you aren’t usually happy around me, but there’s something else.”

“I suppose I have been happier,” Cas couldn’t stop the fond smile as visions of Dean came to mind. He then glanced around to see who was within earshot. Emmanuel’s was a small, cozy restaurant and though the tables immediately beside them were empty, other customers and the wait staff weren’t far away.

Anna caught the glance and gasped. “Have you met someone?”

“I meet a lot of people, Anna. It comes with teaching.”

She waved him off. “You know what I mean. Outside of working conditions. Is there someone you’re sweet on?”

“It’s conceivable.”

Anna kicked him in the shin. “Give me a straight answer.”

“Ow!” Cas made a face at her and leaned down to rub his shin. “Yes.”

She brought both hands up to cover her mouth as she gasped. Then she leaned forward, pressing her hands on the tabletop in her excitement. “Who? Tell me all about it!”

“Anna...” Cas rolled his eyes.

Now it was her turn to glance around, then she mouthed at him, “Is it a man?”

He nodded and so did she, leaning back in her chair.

“Cute?” She asked aloud again.

Cas looked down, smiling. “Very.”

“Is it someone near the base?”

“No, in North Carolina. We write letters.”

“How did you meet?” She tipped her head, curious.

“On leave...” He chose his words carefully. “We met at the Aragon and got together again in July.”

“Ohhh, how romantic. So your cutie came up here again in July?” He nodded. “Are you ever going to go down there?”

“I don’t know, it depends... we would both need the time for it. I would like to.”

“Aww, I’m happy for you, brother! You seem very happy about it all.”

“Yes. It isn’t easy... and I have my doubts, but for the time being, I am quite happy.”

“What doubts?” Anna tipped her head, frowning.

“Do we both feel the same? Is it serious or just fun? Will the distance and ... being in the military cause too many problems for us?”

“Are _you_ serious?”

“I am... I think so.” Cas felt serious about Dean, he felt light hearted at just the thought of him, but saying it out loud seemed like a big commitment.

“And you’re worried that... your other half isn’t?”

Castiel shrugged. “I can’t know for sure. It feels like we’re both serious but how do I know the difference between infatuation and...”

“Love?” Anna supplied the word neither he nor Dean had said out loud.

“Yes.”

His sister was quiet for a moment, her lips pressed together and her eyes thoughtful. “I guess you don’t. That’s part of life and love, isn’t it? Being uncertain but trying anyway. When you take flight, do you know you won’t be shot down by an enemy fighter?”

“No.”

“But does it stop you from taking off?”

“No, of course not.” Cas shook his head.

“So why not take the risk and let yourself fall in love? Yeah, you might get shot down, but if you don’t, isn’t it worth the risk?”

Cas considered that and how to respond. Luckily, their meal arrived and he didn’t have to speak right away. They thanked their waitress for the food and then began eating. Anna stared at Cas as she chewed and he took his time.

Finally, she asked him, “So?”

“Good food, as always.”  He nodded and Anna rolled her eyes.

“I’m not asking about the food.”

“You’re right, it is worth the risk. It’s just quite a large risk.”

“Greater than death?” She quirked a brow at him, lips pursed to the side.

“Well, there is more than my heart at stake here.”

“There’s the heart of the one you care for, too.” Anna said.

“And more than that. We could get in trouble...”

“Seems to me you’re risking that already.”

“When did you get so smart?” Cas asked, shaking his head.

“Years of being a smart ass.” Anna shrugged innocently and Cas nearly choked on his water.

“It isn’t polite for a woman to swear in public.”

“Isn’t polite for a man to, either. Doesn’t seem to stop ‘em.”

“My sister the feminist.” Cas said, in a voice that showed he was proud of her. She straightened in her seat, looking quite proud of herself.

They laughed and carried on eating. Anna gave him the updates about what she was doing with her time, briefly spoke of how their parents were fairing and general news from town. After the meal, Anna ordered a slice of cake for each of them for dessert, insisting that he get cake for his birthday, but sparing him the song. As they ate, she pulled a small box from her purse, wrapped in brown paper and handed it over.

“Is this my present?”

“It is. Open it, and try to look excited.”

He laughed and tore away the brown paper. When he opened the box, a small model plane was fully constructed inside. “Did you build this?”

“I did. I know you’re sick of those Grumman biplanes they had you flying on tour. I can’t very well make the Navy give you a mono, so I got you one myself.”

Cas laughed, warmed by the thought of her building a model plane for him. He carefully lifted it and inspected her craftsmanship. All the little details were carefully painted on, each part was in just the right place. “It’s beautiful, Anna.”

“Yeah?”

He looked up at her. “Yes. I love it, thank you.”

She shrugged, looking bashful for once. “It isn’t much but I thought you might appreciate the effort. And hey, maybe you’ll get a change soon.”

“Assuming they ship us out again. We’ve gone all year without orders.”

“Which means first thing next year, you’re probably going to be leaving us.” Anna frowned and Cas felt guilty for itching to leave but he was growing tired of training.

“I’ll be home for Christmas, though.”

“Yes, which is good. Because I would go mad without you or school to distract me! If only I could enlist...”

“Alright, since I can’t change my plans and you can’t change the military, how about we just eat cake?” Cas suggested, to skirt around the conversation. He agreed that she should be able to serve, despite his fear of his little sister in danger, but they had the conversation plenty of times already.

“If it worked for Marie Antoinette...” She said, dramatically spearing a chunk of cake and holding it up.

Cas shook his head and did the same, saluting her cake with his own forkful and then eating it. When they finished eating, Anna insisted on paying for their lunch on account of it being in honor of his birthday. They left the restaurant and walked together to the train station and parted ways with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Anna returned to their home in Pontiac and Cas took his new model plane back to the base.

* * *

**_16 September, 1940_ **

_Dean,_

_It sounds like you and your brother can be quite devious together. I imagine most of that is your doing? I’ll be sure never to place a bet if we play pool together. I’m getting better, but haven’t yet beat the boys on base. You’re right, Page and Plant are both good men and they’ve been encouraging me to spend more time being social now that they’ve got the chance. It helps pass the time but delays my correspondences._

_This weekend my sister is going to come visit me for lunch. My birthday is on the 18th and she wanted to get together. I’m quite looking forward to seeing her, actually. Even though we are in the same state, we don’t make the time to visit quite so often. I suppose by the time you receive this letter I will already have seen her._

_It sounds like you had fun with your friends on Labor Day! A shame the record shop was so crowded when you went in. I’m glad you enjoyed the last song. I guess I don’t know which songs are popular because I don’t listen to the radio all too often. Maybe I will now, while spending more time in the officer’s club. I went to the record store to hear the song about the swallows in Capistrano. Saying farewell is perhaps the hardest part about leaving someone you care about deeply._

_While you’re apart sometimes fear sets in and makes you wonder and worry. Not to mention, knowing it’s the last time you will see them in the flesh for who-knows-how-long? You want to hold onto that moment for as long as possible. Photographs do help and I have one that we took the day we met. I look at it often, and though it helps, it doesn’t quite compare. At least the man in the song has the luxury of knowing when his love will come back to him, when the swallows return. Sadly, that’s not something we know quite so easily, is it?_

_I wonder if she made it back to him._

_Cas_

* * *

**_27 September, 1940_ **

Soldiers, pilots, sailors and the public gathered around their radios that night to hear the special bulletin. There was to be a report of big news about the war that might have a major effect on the United States’ involvement. People murmured, wondering what the news might be or what it might mean for their futures and the futures of their loved ones. Finally the announcer spoke.

“And now, a special report on the war. On this day, exactly one year since Poland surrendered to Nazi Germany in Warsaw, the nations of Germany, Italy and Japan gathered together to sign a pact now known to us as the Tripartite Pact. Minister Joachim von Ribbentrop, representative from Germany, Foreign Minister Count Galeazzo Ciano of Italy and Ambassador Saburo Kurusu of Japan signed the pact for their respective countries. Also in attendance, Foreign Minister Count Stephen Csáky, signing on behalf of Hungary. It is reported that Adolf Hitler was not present at the meeting.

“There may be plans for several other countries, including Slovakia and Romania, to align themselves by signing the Tripartite Pact later this year. The President and Congress have not made any announcements as to whether the United States will join the war, but the signing of this pact is a clear sign from the Axis Powers, warning against our alliance with the Allies. More to come as we hear it, folks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs referenced in this chapter:  
> [Dream a Little Dream of Me](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fH5oek8TK1k) by Ozzie Nelson  
> [The Nearness of You](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JqIFnJ0UipU) by Glenn Miller  
> [When the Swallows Come Back to Capistrano](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YYOf_0wuqtE) by the Ink Spots 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please feel free to comment -- it goes a long way in supporting the story and honestly helps me write faster. Knowing folks are interested in what's to come makes me excited about writing more. No comment is dumb, they're all lovely. All of you who have read this story as far as you have are lovely and I appreciate every one of you! <3 And if you don't comment, I still really appreciate you reading! So thank you, to all of you!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can only apologize for how long it took to post this chapter. Thank you all so much for your patience and all your questions about if it would continue. I do intend to keep updating this fic and won't just drop it. I just had really awful writer's block with it for a while, but hopefully things are up and running again after this! I hope you enjoy the chapter and I hope it was worth the wait!

_**13 December, 1940** _

It had been two months since Castiel last saw Anna and two months since he had given himself permission to fall in love with Dean. A month from Tuesday would mark one year since he met Dean Winchester at the Aragon Ballroom. Cas often thought back on that night, how he had been drawn in by Dean’s charming smile and easygoing manner. He liked the way Dean had joined the conversation without being intimidated by the high ranking officers; that confidence was attractive.

Dean had been bold, daring, warm and inviting. Cas had fallen for him all too easily. When they shared their first kiss, it was all over, he was completely enamoured. Even if Cas hadn’t seen Dean again, he wouldn’t have ever forgotten the man. Now it seemed like Dean would forever be a part of his life.

For the past two months, they had sent each other letters filled with hidden messages. They found ways around words to say that they missed one another and sent shockingly romantic songs back and forth. Lust was a thing Cas had been familiar with -- attraction, physical need -- but love was a whole new game. Actual, genuine love. It made his heart feel heavy and it made his stomach do the strangest things.

He woke from dreams of being in Dean’s arms, sharing a bed with him. Even though Dean was so far away in reality, it still put a smile on Cas’s face, and the letters still made his day. Cas thought back to the first time they parted, the way Dean had blurted out, “We should write.” He thought the man was crazy to suggest it. Back then, Castiel didn’t know how important those letters -- and Dean, himself -- would become to him.

 

* * *

 

Today was Castiel’s last day at the Naval base. Classes had finished and Cas had completed all the paperwork for his students. He was given the go-ahead to return home for the holidays. The few belongings he had were packed and ready to go: the small record collection he had amassed from many visits with Charlie at the record shop, his box full of letters from Dean and Anna, and all of his uniforms. The model plane Anna had built for him was once again returned to its box and carefully placed at the top of his duffle bag.

He caught the southbound train for home, looking forward to seeing Anna again, but lamenting the change of scenery. In the last letter he received from Dean, the infantryman said he would also be given leave to go home for the holidays. While Dean was happy to see his family again, Cas couldn’t share that joy at seeing his own. He toyed with the idea of visiting Kansas with his time off, but didn’t want to impose on Dean or the Winchesters. It was Christmastime and while Dean and Anna were the only people Cas had any interest in spending his holidays with, it wasn’t fair to ask Dean to split his attention that way. Besides which, he would never hear the end of it from Anna for abandoning her.

Cas arrived at the house a little after 4:00 in the afternoon, letting himself in. The Novaks lived in a fairly large house, having not suffered much from the Depression. Their family had always been rather well off, and though they had cut back on daily spending during the 30s, the outward appearance of their home hadn’t changed much. With a three story home, well manicured lawn and plenty of rooms, all well furnished, they looked as if the economy hadn’t touched them at all.

Their money came partially from inheritance; both Castiel’s mother and father were from wealthy families. In addition to money, they inherited businesses. His parents’ marriage was arranged as a business deal and left little love between them. Though they got along well enough, no shouting matches or physical fighting, Cas would never have described his parents as being “in love” with each other.

When he walked into the house, it was no surprise to Castiel that the first people to greet him were the butler and Anna. The butler took his things up to his bedroom and Anna ran forward to throw her arms around his shoulders.

“Cas! You’re home!” She said happily, hugging him. He caught her and gave Anna a squeeze about the waist before setting her down.

“I’m home. It’s good to see you, Anna. Are Mother and Father here?” Their parents had never been around much, with their father always either keeping up business dealings or serving in the Navy. All the time he spent on shore leave during the last war was devoted to his business. Their mother maintained the upkeep of the house and their name in society.

“Mother is playing bridge or something of the like with the ladies and Father hasn’t come home from work yet. He should be back around 5:00, who knows when Mother will be back.”

“Then we have the house to ourselves for a bit.” Cas offered her a smile. They went to the kitchen to steal a snack before supper, then retreated to Anna’s bedroom to talk. Together, they sat on the edge of her bed munching on some sweet bread.

“So are you glad to be done teaching cadets?” Anna asked first.

“I suppose. I haven’t got any problem with teaching, I just--”

“You would rather be at sea, I know.” Anna finished for him. He had said it to her plenty of times before. “Things will probably change in the new year.”

“Perhaps. It would be about time. I truly thought they would have sent me out sooner than that.”

“Staying on shore had one added benefit, though, didn’t it?” The way Anna half-smirked at him gave Cas pause.

“What are you implying?”

“Oh, a certain soldier you met along the way, is all.”

“Anna...” Cas rolled his eyes. She promptly grabbed one of her pillows and smacked him with it. He caught it and pulled it away from her, setting the pillow in his lap for safe keeping.

“I have other pillows, you know.” She gestured to them.

“And now I have one of my own. You know you won’t win a pillow fight against me, sister.”

“Okay, truce. Look, no one’s around, you can talk freely. Tell me about the boy.”

“He’s a man, first of all. Not a boy.” Cas corrected and instantly regretted it, because of the teasing look on Anna’s face. So he pressed on. “His name is Dean, he is from Kansas and is in infantry training at Fort Bragg in North Carolina.”

“What does he look like?”

“A little taller than me, light brown hair, green eyes. Broad shoulders, muscular, and...”

“And?” Anna prompted.

“And a rather pretty face.”

Anna lifted both hands to cover her mouth, but Cas could tell she was about to completely fail at holding back laughter. He glared at her, because that’s what big brothers were supposed to do when little sisters teased them.

“I don’t have to tell you any more, you know.”

“I know!” She said through giggles, waving a hand at Castiel. “I’m sorry, it’s just... it’s sweet, that you think he’s pretty.”

“It’s just a fact. Anyone who looked at him would define him as ... classically handsome.”

“Okay, Cas. If you insist.”

“If I show you a photograph, would you let me be?”

“You have a photograph of him?” Anna’s eyes went wide with excitement, her smile grew double in size.

Sighing, Cas tossed the pillow in his lap at Anna and stood, trudging to his bedroom to dig out the photo he had of Dean. Anna shoved the pillow aside and ran down the hall after him, giggling along the way. He began unpacking his suitcase, setting things on his bed to put away later until he got to the bundle of letters. Taking them out, he opened the first one from Dean and pulled the half strip of photos from the weekend they met. Just two pictures, one of them looking forward, then one of them smiling. He handed it over to Anna.

She sat on the edge of his bed and looked closely at them. Finally, she said, “He is very handsome.”

“As I told you.”

“When was this taken?”

“The second night after we met in January. Just before we said goodbye.”

“You both look happy.” Anna trailed her finger along the torn edge. “Does he have the bottom two?”

“Yes.” Cas took the photo back and looked at it, smiling to himself.

“Tell me about him.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, what kind of personality does he have? Is he fun or boring? Does he get along with his family? Is he smart? That kind of thing.” Anna wasn’t going to give up and there was no getting out of it. Cas wondered if Dean had to go through this with his little brother.

“He’s quite intelligent, though I don’t think he realizes it. He’s kind and seems to care very deeply about people. He cares a lot about his little brother, and protecting innocent lives is a priority to him, which is part of why he serves.”

“This is the same man you were worried doesn’t feel the same way about you that you feel about him?” Anna sounded surprised.

“Yes, why would I be talking about anyone else?”

She stared at him.

“What, Anna?”

“He cares very deeply about people... he has been sending you letters for a year now. I assume he was eager to see you since he took his leave time away from home, away from his little brother.”

“Yes?”

“You know how you said he’s very smart and doesn’t realize it? I think maybe you’re very dumb and don’t realize it.”

“Anna!”

“How on earth could you doubt that he’s serious about you?” She threw her arms up in the air, a bewildered look on her face.

Cas opened his mouth, trying to find the words to respond, then closed it again when everything he thought to say just sounded foolish. Eventually he looked away. “It isn’t that I doubt Dean is fully capable of caring for someone. It seems clear that he enjoys being with me and I certainly enjoy being with him.”

“Then why doubt that you love each other?”

“Because I’ve never been in love before and I don’t know if he has, either. I don’t know how long feelings like this last. Loving your family is one thing, romantic love is different. He may not love me a year from now.”

“You might have said the same thing the night that photo was taken.” She pointed at it. “And yet, it’s a year from then, isn’t it?”

“Very nearly...”

“Then why the doubt?”

“I don’t...” Castiel closed his mouth and thought for a moment. “Men like Dean don’t typically fall for men like me.”

“Men like you meaning...?”

Cas shrugged. “I’m not what you would call charismatic.”

“Well, he’s smart. Maybe he just saw you for who you are, when others don’t.”

“Why would I get so lucky all of a sudden?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call this lucky. I mean, you two live 800 miles apart and can’t speak openly about each other or even to each other in public. I think God is still giving you kind of a hard time here.”

“Thank you for that reminder, Anna...”

She sighed and pushed his shoulder. “What I’m saying is, you’re being given a good thing in a bad situation, why believe you don’t deserve it? Yes, Dean seems to be great and perhaps even loves you, but you’re in a terrible situation together. So it doesn’t really fall into the ‘too good to be true’ category. Do you see what I mean?”

“I suppose when you put it that way.” He shrugged. “So what about you, do you have anyone you like?”

“No, my love life is completely lacking right now; this is why I need to live vicariously through you,” Anna scoffed a laugh.

“There’s no one at school you’re interested in?” Cas tipped his head.

“Not really, it’s mostly other women. A lot of the men enlisted; those who didn’t either already have a gal, or aren’t really what I’m looking for in a man.”

“What are you looking for?”

Anna laughed and pointed at the photograph in Cas’s hand. “Wouldn’t mind if he looked like Dean! Say, do you think he’s interested in girls, too?”

Cas shoved his sister off his bed. “Mitts off, I claimed him first.”

She stumbled away from the bed, laughing. “Jeeze, okay, you can have him. Just don’t let him go.”

“Really, what would you like in a man? Maybe I can find a pilot for you,” Cas thought for a moment. “Or a sailor.”

“I do love a boy in uniform,” Anna laughed. “I don’t know, someone smart and strong, brave, willing to fight for something. I would like a man who isn’t afraid of an intelligent woman, but respects her intelligence. Someone who would see us as equals. But also someone willing to have some fun and eat chocolate cake.”

“That’s a tall order.”

“Now you see my troubles!” She threw her hands up in the air.

From downstairs, they heard the front door open. Anna and Cas looked to his bedroom door, then back to each other.

“Sounds like Mother or Father is home.” Anna said and pointed to the photograph of Dean, “Best put that away.”

Cas hid away the strip of photos and straightened his clothes; they always had to look presentable, especially as far as their mother was concerned. Growing up, the only time Cas or Anna spent with their mother was when they had to be present at social gatherings, where their mother could boast of their good manners and success in school and other extra curricular activities.

Anna was taught to dance, sew, cross stitch, cook and bake, and was given horseback riding lessons. Meanwhile, Cas learned piano, read countless military strategy books, had private tutors for math and business and, of course, both children learned to fly as soon as they were old enough. The only time they acted as children was around each other, and the two of them were all the family either of them had sometimes.

The mood shifted as the pair left Cas’s bedroom and went down to meet one or both of their parents. It was time to put on the show as good, obedient children. The irony of their lives was that, despite being constantly taught to behave, Anna and Cas both grew up wanting to break the rules their parents and society made for them. One day their parents would understand that Anna didn’t want to grow up to be a housewife taking care of the manor and Cas wouldn’t grow up to marry some pretty young woman he met on shore leave, but for now they smiled and did their duty.

 

* * *

 

_**21 December, 1940** _

Dean arrived home late the night before and went straight to bed after greeting everyone. He slept well into the morning when he was woken by the smell of cookies baking. Stumbling out of bed, he padded downstairs to find his mother in the kitchen. Christmas time meant all sorts of delicious foods and baked goods in the Winchester house.

“Morning,” Dean said as he poured himself a bowl of cereal. “Am I the last one up?”

“Good morning, Dean. Yes, you are. Sam went over to Jessica’s house, your father is running errands, making the rounds.” When John was making the rounds, it meant he was visiting friends in town, old army buddies who owned the general store or worked at the post office. “I get you all to myself.”

“Does that mean I get the cookies all to myself?”

Mary looked back over her shoulder at Dean and gave him a wry smile, “Eat your breakfast.”

Dean laughed and then spooned some cereal into his mouth.

“Jess is going to come over for dinner tonight. She and Sam both wanted to see how you were, but they thought they would give you some time to relax first.”

“That was thoughtful...” Dean said, though he assumed it meant that Sam wanted some alone time with Jess. Or, just possibly, last minute Christmas shopping. It was the last weekend before Christmas and the shops were all sure to be crowded with procrastinators. Dean realized he might need to be one of them.

“Have you got any plans to see friends while you’re home?”

“Not really. I’m sure I’ll cross paths with some of them. I might run into town today or tomorrow.”

“How have things been at the base?” Mary put a tray of cookies into the oven, set a timer, then joined Dean at the breakfast table.

“Fine, it’s all pretty much the same every day. I do training, answer letters, listen to some records, spend time with the guys.”

“Benny and Ash, right?” Dean nodded. “How are they doing?”

“So far so good. Ash is still way too smart for us, Benny was happy to be going home to see his gal.”

“And has anyone struck your fancy, yet? I’m sure the girls in North Carolina think you’re attractive.”

Dean looked down into his cereal bowl and shrugged. He could lie to his dad about his love life, but lying to his mother had always been harder. So he skirted around the whole story with little bits of truth, instead. “Not really interested in any of them. Besides they’re mostly real young.”

Mary was quiet for a moment and Dean looked up. She looked into his eyes and smiled the kind of smile only a mother could manage. Dean didn’t know what it meant and he didn’t want to ask.

“Is there someone in particular you like? That makes other girls seem less interesting?”

Dean shrugged again. “Not anyone in North Carolina.”

Just then the timer buzzed and, still smiling that smile, Mary got up to turn the cookies around in the oven. Saved by the bell, Dean quickly changed the subject.

“Anyway, everyone is busy wondering about whether we’re going to get shipped out one of these days. Now that that pact was signed and Germany, Italy and Japan are being called the Axis Powers--”

“Dean, it’s Christmas time,” she turned around and brandished her pot holder at him. “The War itself has taken a break for the holiday, don’t you think we should too?”

“Uhm... What would you like for Christmas, Mom?” He grinned at her sheepishly.

Mary continued to frown at him, but it was clear she was trying to hide a smile. “Well I could use a new set of pot holders. And a new spatula.”

“You’ve got it.” He quickly finished his cereal and stood up, putting the bowl in the sink. Wrapping an arm around his mother’s waist, Dean gave her a kiss on the cheek. “And no more war talk.”

“Now we just have to convince your father of the same promise,” she laughed. “Wash that bowl before you run off.”

“Yes, mom.” Dean quickly cleaned the bowl, then retreated upstairs to bathe and get dressed. He decided a day out walking around town and Christmas shopping was in order. Once he was ready, Dean went back downstairs to kiss his mother goodbye, put on a heavy coat and headed out to walk into town.

Lawrence was a simple town, nothing quite as big as Fayetteville, the city near Ft Bragg, and nowhere near as fancy as Chicago. Dean liked it, though. It was familiar and friendly and it was home. While a few people moved on to bigger and better things, a lot of the folks he grew up with still lived there, and almost everyone came back home for the holidays, so long as they could.

The air was cool and crisp, the sun was bright up in the blue sky, it was a perfect winter day. No snow had fallen just yet, but the town was decorated for Christmas. Wreaths covered doors, a few people had garland hung around the door frames. Large red bows could be seen decorating mailboxes. As he got into the part of town with all the shops, Dean saw garland stretched across the road and wires with big, decorative bells hanging from them. Inside shops, radios were turned on to play Christmas music, by the likes of Bing Crosby, Benny Goodman and Ozzie Nelson.

Without much of a plan for what to get everyone, except for a new spatula and pot holders for his mother, Dean just decided he would wander in and out of each shop until something caught his eye. The only people he planned to buy gifts for were his mom and dad, Sam and Jess. The idea of getting something for Cas certainly crossed his mind. What he would get for Cas or how he would get it to him, however, Dean didn’t know. With his mind in a daze, thinking about Cas, he wound up staring absently at a shelf of decorative salt and pepper shakers and didn’t notice anyone around him.

“Well, if it isn’t Dean Winchester,” A familiar young woman’s voice chirped from nearby. Dean turned to see Jo Harvelle standing beside him with a big grin on her face.

“Well, if it isn’t little Joanna Beth,” He teased back. She cringed.

“Oh, Dean, only my mother calls me that, and only when I’m in trouble, I don’t need to hear it from you.”

“When aren’t you in trouble?” He laughed and gave her a once over. “You’ve grown up.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled, though he could tell she was blushing. Jo was wearing a nice dress in a rich navy blue color, more mature than how he was used to seeing her look.

“I decided to appease Mama and Daddy and wear nice clothes for Christmas, at least when I go out. I didn’t know you were home already.”

“Just got in last night, I get to stay until after the new year, then I go back to North Carolina.”

“At least the army is generous for holidays. How have you been?”

“Not bad, getting along well enough at training, got some good friends there. How about you? How are things here?”

“Alright.” Jo shrugged. “I’ve got a job at the bank now, working with Sam’s Jessica. Mama wants me to work at the cafe but I kind of want to get away, do my own thing for a while.”

“I respect that.” Dean nodded. He and Jo both knew a thing or two about parents’ expectations of following in their footsteps, but Jo had always been more rebellious, at least against her mother’s wishes. “Is it a good job?”

“I’m getting paid.” Jo laughed. “It’s alright, though. I figure it’s a good skill to have, if nothing else.”

“Can’t argue that.” Dean suddenly thought of Cas’s sister and wondered if maybe she and Jo might get along. The thought made him smile suddenly.

“What are you smiling at?” Jo pulled his attention back to her; she had a brow raised in question.

“Just, uh, got this friend and I think you and his sister might share some ideas.”

“What kind of ideas?”

“Well, last I heard she was wanting to join the navy as a pilot, because she knows how to fly and doesn’t think it’s right that girls can’t serve.”

“It isn’t right, we’re just as tough as boys. Tougher, in some ways.”

Dean thought about making a remark about how he was probably still tougher than her, but her challenging look made him think better of it. He chuckled, “Yeah, you two would get along. It’s a shame they don’t live closer.”

“Where do they live?”

“In Illinois, south of Chicago,” Dean wished they lived closer for an entirely different reason, though.

“Guess I won’t ever meet her, then. But if you get a chance, tell her I said to keep fighting for it.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile, “I’ll be sure to pass the message along.”

“Good.” Jo nodded, then looked around, as their conversation felt like it had met an end on that note. “So, you doing some last minute shopping?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to try and carry gifts on the train, so...” He turned and picked up a salt shaker, then set it back down and shrugged. “I’m not real good at the gift giving thing.”

“If you want a hint, I would say don’t give anyone a salt shaker.” Jo laughed and he glared at her.

“I’ll figure something out. So what about you? Are you last minute shopping, too?”

Jo shrugged, “Just getting out of the house for a while. Say, maybe we can get lunch one day while you’re home. Catch up on each other’s lives.”

“Yeah, that’d be good. I mean, mine’s kinda boring, about all I have to talk about are guns and some screwball friends. But I’d like to hear how things are going around here.”

“I’m sure you’ve got some good stories, Dean Winchester. You always do.” She laughed. “I’ll give you a ring sometime.”

“Sounds good. Hey, tell your mom I said hi. And that my mom does, too, ‘cause she will. How is your mom doing?”

“She’s doing just fine, business is good and daddy had the flu, but he’s better now. I’m sure your mom will have heard that he was sick. You know how word travels here.”

“Don’t I,” Dean laughed. “Take care of yourself, Jo. I’ll see you around.”

As they parted ways, Dean felt a little lighter. He always liked Jo and seeing her was a nice welcome home. For a while, back in high school, he had stronger feelings for her than just friendship, but all of his flirtations were shot down without hesitation. He liked her spark and was glad she had turned him down, because she ended up being a great friend. There were never any hard feelings between them. Later, of course, when Dean took more interest in men, the point became moot. He never told her of his shift in orientation though he wondered sometimes if she figured it out herself.

Dean spent half the day going from shop to shop, stopping at every other store to catch up with someone he knew from town. They all asked how he was doing, how training was going, how were his parents and brother and if Sam and Jess were planning on getting engaged yet. He did his part asking after everyone’s health and how their parents or siblings or kids were doing. By the end of the day, he was exhausted and done with conversation. More importantly, his mission had been successful, and he had found gifts for everyone in his family. He walked back into the house in the afternoon and quickly hid the presents in his room until he could wrap them up. He spent an hour talking to his mom about who he ran into and how everyone was doing before Sam and Jess rescued him. Jess took up conversation with Mary while Sam and Dean retired to the living room to listen to the radio and relax. He wondered if Cas had these same problems when he went back home, remembered how very Society his family was and then guessed he probably got off easy compared to Cas.

 

* * *

 

_**22 December, 1940** _

Sunday before Christmas was a special kind of torture. Cas and Anna were forced to go to church first thing that morning for mass, which lasted an hour. They both had to wear their Sunday Best, which for Anna meant a brand new dress that her mother had picked out, modest and clean and uncomfortable. Cas got off easy, because he was able to wear his best formal naval uniform, but his mother and father were worse than any Admiral doing uniform inspections. If so much as a piece of lint dusted his pristine white uniform, he would receive a disapproving scowl from his father. As if Cas put that lint there specifically to offend him.

The actual church service wasn’t the worst, because Cas and Anna both had a lifetime of practice sitting through them, whether they agreed with what was being said or not. It might have been easier still if there was anyone in the congregation that he had any interest in seeing. Anna had a few friends, or at least friendly acquaintances, whom she spoke to before and after the service, but Cas did not. He never felt particularly comfortable in this world that belonged to his parents and would have chosen an airplane hangar or a cramped mess hall on an aircraft carrier over this.

When the service ended and his family was done mingling with members of the congregation, they all went out for brunch. It was a small talk nightmare during which Castiel tried to avoid participating in the conversation. There were always guests, acquaintances of the family whom his parents wanted to impress or associate with. His father would always eventually talk business and one of the women would chastise him because it was Christmas. One of the men would try and rope Cas in, asking him about taking over the business from his father one day.

He always gave noncommittal answers, that his father was still fully capable of running things, that he was in service to the United States Navy, and that took precedence in his life right now. They were the canned answers he always gave, avoiding insult to his father, maintaining his patriotism, things that no one could really argue against. The only person at the table he ever worried about disappointing was Anna, because she was trapped here, too, and had more questions to answer. There was constant pressure on her to find a man and get married and the holiday season always made that worse. Another year gone by and comments like “you aren’t getting any younger, Anna dear,” made both of them cringe.

Though Cas was also asked about marriage, there was a general understanding that he could still find a woman even if he was significantly older than her. With Anna, they expected her to marry while she was still in her early 20s, least no man would want her when she got older than 25 or 26. She made remarks about not wanting a man who wouldn’t want her after 25 and received a reprimand from their mother. Both Cas and Anna found the whole thing disgusting, a symptom of a broken system they both desperately wanted to fix or to leave.

When brunch was blessedly over, the family was driven back to the house, where their father would retreat to his study and their mother would begin calling on friends or writing letters. Cas was never entirely sure what she did with her time on days like these, though he suspected Anna had a better idea of it all. Once they were no longer needed, he immediately grabbed Anna and they took refuge in her bedroom. Cas could tell she was furious.

“Just once. Just. Once. I would like to have a meal without mother trying to insist I am nothing without a man at my side.” She paced around in a circle.

“You aren’t nothing without a man.”

“I know that!” She hollered at him. “I know that, and you know that, I just wish she knew that. Lord above, she knows exactly how much she does without father, why doesn’t she realize we don’t need men!?”

“Thanks, sis.” Cas gave a half-hearted smile at her.

“You know what I mean. Of course I need you, but I don’t need to have a husband to be successful or happy.” She threw her arms up, “Hell, I might be happier without one.”

“You know I would never defend mother over you, right?”

Anna gave him a sidelong glance, waiting to pounce if he said one wrong word.

“The only world mother has ever known was one where women couldn’t get ahead. Where men don’t listen to women or wouldn’t let them run a company. I think she’s afraid that without a man, no one will listen to you.”

“She’s wrong.”

“She is.” Cas agreed. “It’s the 40s now, things are changing. You’ve grown up knowing that you can vote since you first learned the concept. She grew up being told women weren’t smart enough to be allowed to vote.”

“So, what, I should be more understanding of her? Allow her to tell me I need a man?”

“You should show her she’s wrong by proving yourself right. Because maybe once she sees it can be done, she will finally believe it.”

“It wouldn’t kill her to support me, just once in her life.” Anna crossed her arms and looked away.

“I don’t know, it might just,” Cas deadpanned.

Anna narrowed her eyes at him and tried not to smile.

“Though we would say something very nice in the eulogy, I’m sure. Here lies our dear, beloved mother. Done in by shock when she once, quite by chance, supported her strong-willed, feminist daughter. The horror of what she had dared to believe was possible was too much to bear, and she keeled over on the spot.”

“Shut up,” Anna finally laughed and smacked his arm.

He laughed as well and hugged her about the shoulders. “You know that even if they never support you, I always will.”

“You better, I know too many of your secrets.”

“Are you blackmailing me, sister?”

“Well, you know, when they die and you inherit everything because you’re a man --”

“Because I’m the oldest.”

“--Because you’re the oldest and a man, then I have to have some way of getting my share of the money out of you.”

“And trusting that I would split it fairly just won’t do.”

“I’m a level headed, intelligent woman. I always have contingencies.”

“Right, of course, I should have known.” Cas rolled his eyes. “Feeling any better?”

“I’m still angry, but I guess no more so than usual.” She took a seat on her bed and looked over at him. “How come you don’t get as angry?”

“I do get angry. I’ve just had more years of practice keeping the anger in. Between here and being in the military... I’ve learned control in certain situations. But it doesn’t mean I’m not angry.”

“Maybe I’ll learn to control my temper.”

“Don’t.”

“What?” Anna turned to him, confused.

“Your anger keeps you fighting and we should keep fighting until people like mother and father see women as equals.”

Anna laughed softly and leaned her shoulder against Cas’s. “Maybe we will just work on our generation, first.”

“Okay, deal.” He hugged her again and kissed her temple. “I’m very proud of you, Anna.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

 

* * *

 

_**24 December, 1940** _

Christmas Eve meant a big dinner in the Winchester household. It worked out nicely that Jess’s family had their dinner on Christmas Day, so she and Sam could be at both every year without choosing between them. Thanksgiving, however, was a trade off event. Mary was the one who insisted on the big dinner. Her own family hadn’t done a lot of celebrating while she grew up and she always wanted her boys to have a different, happier life. She chose Christmas Eve to be the dinner night though because she insisted that Christmas Day was for relaxing and refused to cook at all.

All day on Christmas Eve, though, everyone was busy and bustling. Even after Jess joined the family to help out in preparation, the boys were never off the hook. There were always dishes to wash or pots to stir, tables to set and silver to shine. The house was decorated, they left the radio on all day as long as carols were playing and everything was surrounded by Christmas spirit. It was a warm and welcoming place thanks to Mary; Dean loved everything about the holiday. He loved being home with his family and helping around the house, even if it was a chore sometimes.

At one point he stood in the doorway to the kitchen, smelling pie and turkey and gravy and stuffing and wished Cas could be there, too. It felt like Cas was the only thing missing from the whole scene and he could imagine him standing beside Jess, making her laugh, or helping his mom carry something heavy. He imagined Cas would be happy to help out with anything that needed to get done. For one tiny, bitter moment he envied Jess and Sam, but quickly pushed those feelings aside. Dean knew that if Cas could be here for Christmas, Sam and Jess would probably welcome him into the family more readily than anyone else.

“Hey Dean, how come I’m doing all this work and you’re just staring off into lala land?” Sam’s voice broke Dean from his thoughts.

He grinned at his brother, “Because you’re a giant mule, built to carry heavy stuff?”

“Oh ha ha.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Dean, no name calling at Christmas,” Mary scolded.

“Sorry, mom. What can I do?”

“Check on the turkey, see what the thermometer says.” She pointed to the stove, then carried on rolling out gingerbread cookie dough. Dean did as he was asked and reported the temperature back to her. “Okay, go ahead and take it out, then tell your father it will be ready to carve soon.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean tracked down his dad, who was reading a book somewhere out of the way of all the chaos. “Dad.”

John looked up, “That time?”

“Turkey is out of the oven, mom says it will be ready to carve soon.”

“Alright,” he folded the corner of the page in his book and set it aside, then pushed himself up out of his chair with a groan. “Your old man is getting old.”

“Nah, not yet. You’ve still got some fight left in you.” Dean grinned. John might give him a hard time and might ask too much of him, but he was still Dean’s dad and still his hero in a lot of ways.

“Yeah, maybe just a bit.” John ruffled Dean’s hair as he passed him and went on into the kitchen. Dean followed after him. The table was nearly set and things had come together quite a lot during the few minutes it took to retrieve his father.

In the midst of all the movement, John snagged Mary around the waist and pulled her close to kiss her cheek. He whispered a Merry Christmas to her and Dean smiled at the way her eyes softened as she looked at her husband. Their relationship wasn’t perfect, they fought sometimes, and sometimes John drank too much when he spent too much time thinking about the First World War, but they never stopped loving each other; It was in moments like these that Dean realized how lucky he was to have a loving family.

He walked over to Sam’s side and punched him in the shoulder, “Come on, Sammy, wash your hands before dinner. You too, Jess.”

The two of them laughed at his order but went to wash their hands anyway. Dean poured drinks for everyone and made sure the last of the dishes were on the table before washing his own hands. John brought the turkey to the table and they all sat down to watch him carve it.

Dinner was a clatter of dishes and utensils and comments on how good all the food was. Everyone complimented Mary and she thanked the kids for all their help. They went around the table talking about the good things in life and the little joys they all experienced throughout the year. When everyone had their fill, Dean and Sam cleared the table, letting Mary and Jess take it easy. They came back with pumpkin pie and dessert plates. Pie was cut and served and everyone’s glasses were refilled, but before anyone could dig in, Sam interrupted them.

“I just have something to say before we eat dessert...”

Everyone stopped and looked at Sam, but he turned to Jess and took her hands in his. “Jessica, you’ve been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you more than I know how to say.”

“Sam...” Her eyes were wide.

“I fell in love with you the moment I met you. And I know, you’re going to say we were in the fifth grade then and how could I know, but I did. Even though I couldn’t get up the courage to talk to you for three years and waited another year before asking you out, I loved you that whole time. All these years we’ve spent together has only shown me how lucky I am to have a girlfriend like you.”

Sam stood from his seat and knelt on the ground before Jess. He let go of her hands to pull a small black box from his pocket. “So now, I hope you’ll make me the luckiest man on Earth. Jessica Lee Moore, will you marry me?”

Jess brought her hands to her lips and tears welled in her eyes, but she was smiling as bright as Dean had ever seen. She nodded before she managed to speak and held out one trembling hand to Sam.

“Yes, yes, Sam, I will! Of course, I will!” She laughed and he slid the ring onto her finger. It was small and modest but beautiful all the same. He stood, pulled Jess to her feet, and into his arms. The family clapped, cheered and congratulated them. Both of them laughed and Jess wiped tears from her eyes before Mary insisted on seeing the ring.

John and Dean both stood up to shake Sam’s hand and give him a hug.

“About damn time, Sammy,” Dean laughed and patted him on the back. “I’m real happy for you.”

“Thanks, Dean. That means a lot.” Sam hugged Dean again before Dean pushed him aside to give Jess a big hug.

“Now he’ll make an honest woman of you, and I finally get to say you’re my sister-in-law!”

“I always knew you loved her more,” Sam pouted playfully and Jess laughed at their antics.

“I’m more than pleased to be part of this family. I’ve felt like you all took me in from the very beginning and there’s truly no one else I would rather be with than Sam.” She hugged Sam’s and kissed him. “I love you, Sam.”

“Love you, Jess.”

“Well, I propose a toast,” Dean said, lifting his glass. “To Sam and Jessica, you’ve always made each other happy and you’ll only be happier still as husband and wife.”

Sam looked touched by the toast and smiled up at him, “Thanks, Dean. That was really nice.”

“I’m not all jokes all the time.” Dean smirked back at his brother, then John interrupted their banter.

“To Sam and Jessica.” They all toasted their glasses and drank. Sam wrapped his arm around Jess, who kept staring at her ring and smiling like everything in her world was perfect. And right now, it was. Right now, everything was perfect for all of them, a happy Christmas feast, rounded out with the proposal everyone was waiting for. And though Cas couldn’t be here to share it with them, just knowing that he was out there somewhere, and knowing that something real existed between them was enough.

 

* * *

 

_**25 December, 1940** _

The Novak family didn’t have many traditions on Christmas morning. They took a small collection of gifts to a local orphanage on the Eve of Christmas, but didn’t exchange very many gifts between themselves. Anna and Castiel, always got something meaningful for each other and their parents had standard gifts they always gave. Their mother always received a new piece of jewelry or a new scarf and hat from their father and he typically got a new pair of cufflinks or tie clip from her.

When they were younger, the kids got toys or storybooks, but since they’d grown up, it was more often something practical. Anna got a new dress or lace gloves, which she was convinced were a method their mother used to force her to be more “ladylike.” Castiel was still given books, but long lost were the days of Dick and Jane or even Treasure Island, now he often got literature on military strategy or texts on the ever-changing world of aviation. Anna sometimes got more use out of the books than Cas did.

After gifts were exchanged, they had breakfast at the table, then went their separate ways. Their father and mother both read books in the sitting room, Anna went to her room, saying she had things she wanted to get done and that left Cas at odds with what to do and where to be. He walked through the halls of the house and found himself pausing outside of his father’s study.

Cas almost never went into the study, not because it was off limits by any means, but because simply he had no reason to be in there. He had no reason now, either, but his eyes fell on the telephone that sat on his father’s desk. They had two telephones in the house, one in the hall upstairs and one in the study. An idea came to mind and giddy excitement fluttered in his chest. Feeling like a child up to no good, Cas slipped into the room and closed the door behind himself. He walked over to the desk and sat down, staring at the telephone.

There was only a moment’s hesitation before Cas reached out and picked up the receiver. He pressed his lips together as he waited for the operator to answer.

“Operator, how may I direct your call?”

“Hello, uh, Merry Christmas. I would like to make a long distance call, please?”

“Where are you calling?”

“Lawrence, Kansas. Winchester residence.”

“One moment please.”

Cas chewed his lip as he waited and wished he had a glass of water. Suddenly, his mouth felt drier than a desert. Setting up the transfer for a long distance call was no easy task. The Operator had to contact other call centers and string together the connection, or that was as far as Cas understood what happened. He tapped his fingers on the desk and occasionally glanced at the closed door. No one would interrupt him, no one was going to move from their seats for hours, most likely.

 

At the Winchester home, everyone was happy and relaxed. Music played on the radio and everyone sat in the living room together talking about the gifts they had received. Sam was just standing up to go get ready to visit Jess’s family when the telephone rang. “I got it!” He called to the others and picked up the telephone in the hallway.

“Merry Christmas! Winchester residence.” He wore a beaming smile as he spoke into the phone, spirits high.

 

On the other line, Cas held his breath, then remembered he had to speak. “Merry Christmas, I hope I’m not interrupting your family time... My name is Castiel, I was calling for Dean.”

“Ohhh, you’re Cas, aren’t you? No, no, you’re not interrupting. Let me go get him. This is Sam! Sorry, I should have said that, I’m Sam. Dean’s brother.”

“Sam, yes, he’s told me about you.” Cas chuckled softly, not sure what to say or even what he was doing.

“I’ll bet, more than you needed to know, probably. Hold on one second, Dean’s right here.”

 

Sam set the phone down and went back to the living room, “Dean, call for you. One of your friends.”

“For me? Ah, probably Jo. I was supposed to get lunch with her.” Dean got up and walked to where the telephone was. Sam smiled at him as he went past.

“Not Jo,” He whispered.

“Who is it?”

“Merry Christmas,” Sam patted him on the shoulder and went upstairs.

Confused, Dean picked up the receiver off the hall table. “This is Dean.”

 

“Dean.” Cas said, not sure what else to say at first. “It’s Cas.”

“Cas!” Dean replied, then laughed. “Damn, man, merry Christmas!”

Cas let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “Merry Christmas, Dean. How are you and your family?”

“Good! Good, everything has been really good.” Dean laughed again and Cas could imagine his smile. “Sam proposed to Jess last night. Finally.”

“Wonderful! Congratulations to Sam and Jess. Please, give them my best.”

“I will! Definitely. So, how, uh, how are you?”

Castiel smiled before he answered, “Very good at the moment. I admit, I wasn’t so sure I should call, but then I decided to just ... go for it.”

“I’m glad you did. Wow, it’s really good to hear from you. To hear you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Cas laughed. The signal was spotty at best, considering how far it had to travel between them. Dean’s voice crackled over the line and surely his did the same, but it was better than a letter, and the next best thing to being in person. “I hadn’t realized how much...”

“How much what?”

“As sappy as it sounds, how much I missed your voice.”

 

On the other end of the line, Dean smiled bashfully and scratched the back of his head. He wasn’t used to these things, but he had to admit it felt good. “Yeah, yours too. How’s Christmas going? Is it nice to be home?”

“It is nice to have so much time with Anna, but it’s not exactly pleasant here.” Cas gave a humorless laugh through the telephone.

“That bad? Even at Christmas?”

“Especially now, or at any holiday, really. We have to visit people that neither Anna nor I could care any less about... Tell me about your visit home. I’m sure it’s preferable to mine.”

“Well, you’re about the only thing missing from it. My holiday, that is. Christ, that’s sappy. But it’s been nice, the family is all together, we have a big meal, exchange gifts. There’s a lot of smiling and music, it’s just really warm here. Mom insists on it. She’s like -- you know the guy who stokes the fire on a train to keep it going? That’s what she’s like for our family. All of us guys would probably be lost without her. Jess does a good job helping her out, and now she’ll really be part of the family. Damn, I wish you could have been here with us.”

“I wish I could, too...” Cas paused a moment. “I wanted to, even considered it, just taking a train down to Lawrence... But I didn’t know if I would be intruding and Anna would have had my head if I left her alone with Mother and Father.”

Dean’s chest felt tight at the thought that Cas nearly came down to visit. He didn’t know what he would have done with himself had Cas shown up at his door. Or called from the bus stop up the road. He quickly shook his head out of his daydreams and remembered to respond, “Too bad. We will have to find some other excuse to get you out here. Maybe for the wedding.”

“I wonder if Sam would invite me,” Cas chuckled. “I expect to be deployed sometime this year, though. I will probably be at sea the day they get married.”

“You never know. And he probably wouldn’t mind; Sammy’s too much of a nice guy to mind. Besides, he would like you.”

“You should keep me up to date on how things are going with them.”

“I’ll do that.” Dean nodded. “How is Anna doing?”

“Angry at Mother, but doing well considering. It isn’t really anything new for her.”

“I ran into a friend the other day, her name’s Jo, and I think she and Anna would get along really well.”

“Is she a feminist, too?” Dean could hear the smile in Cas’s voice.

“I don’t know if she’d call herself one, but I’m pretty sure she has the same ideals.”

“One conversation with Anna and she would be. Most people would be. She makes very compelling arguments.”

“I’ve known a lot of tough women, I don’t doubt she has a lot of material for good arguments. Jo says she should keep fighting.”

“She could go all day if you let her. Getting people to listen is the hard part.”

“Yeah, the older generation isn’t so good at listening. Not that our generation is a hell of a lot better.” Dean frowned.

“For example... the fact that our letters can’t say what we really want to say to each other.”

Dean laughed humorlessly, “That’s more people listening too closely. But yeah...”

“Not listening to the fact that men... women... we love who we love, regardless of their social status, the color of their skin, their gender.” Cas was quiet for a moment. “My parents are mad at Anna for not being the woman they want her to be, I can’t help but wonder how they would react to my preference for men.”

“Think you’ll ever tell them?” Dean toyed with the phone cord.

“Would you tell your parents?”

That was a good question, for which Dean didn’t have a ready answer. “Maybe my mom? One day?” He chuckled. “After Jess and Sammy give her some grandkids.”

Cas’s laugh came across the line and made Dean smile. “Yes, a way in which my sister and I will probably both disappoint our parents, at this rate.”

“Aw, Cas. Maybe when the war is over we’ll settle down and adopt a few rugrats.”

“Does this mean there will be two Christmas proposals in your family?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think proposals count when the proposition is illegal.”

“Shucks,” Cas tsked. “It would have been good timing. Nearly one year from the day we met.”

“Damn, you’re right. Just a few weeks, huh?”

“January 17th.” There was a pause. “I kept my ticket from the Aragon.”

“Aren’t you sentimental, Cas.”

“One of us ought to be. So, do we call it our anniversary?”

“Good question. I’ve never been in a relationship this long before.” Dean’s voice lowered just a bit as he said that. No one was near enough to overhear and though they probably weren’t listening in anyway, he couldn’t help being cautious.

“Neither have I,” Cas admitted. “Perhaps we should... Just to mark the passing of time.”

“Alright. January 17th we met. But I didn’t kiss you until the 18th.” Dean grinned at the memory of it.

“True, that was much more like a date.” Cas hummed thoughtfully and Dean could just imagine him looking thoughtful, with his eyebrows drawn down and eyes squinting slightly.

“So our anniversary is January 18th, then. It’s settled. We are officially romantic saps.”

“Just like Sam and Jess.” Cas offered and Dean laughed.

“Yeah, just like Sam and Jess.” Dean felt somber at that thought. Though he did his best to avoid feeling jealous of his brother and soon to be sister-in-law, at the moment he didn’t feel any jealousy at all. Sure, Sam and Jess could be open about their love, they could hold hands in public and get married, but at the heart of it, what was really important was that they loved each other.

Love wasn’t something anyone could take away from them or make illegal. Things like feelings and emotions and anniversaries and daydreams were theirs to keep, no matter what. From that perspective, Dean didn’t have to be jealous of Sam, because with Cas he had all of those things. Hopefully, he always would. Dean knew love could last, because he knew in his heart that Sam and Jess would love each other forever. While he didn’t know what would be in his future or Cas’s, the past year had made a pretty strong argument for their future.

“I’m really glad you called, Cas.”

“So am I.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very, very sorry that it took so many months to update this fic! Life got away from me and made writing very difficult. I won't bog you down with too many notes and let you get straight to it. I just wanted to say I'm sorry! And thank you for not giving up on this fic! I will keep on writing it, no matter how long it takes to finish!

_**4 January, 1941** _

_Dean,_

_I hope you had a great New Year with your family. My parents went out to some party or another, but blessedly spared Anna and myself. So we were able to have the night to ourselves. We might have raided Father’s liquor cabinet and spent the evening listening to the radio in my bedroom. I thought you would approve of that story. Truly, it was the best New Year celebration that I have had in a long while. Perhaps that bodes well for this coming year, though I feel doubtful of that. After all, this may be the year we go to war. And who knows how long we will stay there?_

_Speaking of such things, as expected, I will be rejoining my squadron this month. By the time you receive this, I will already be on my way to Norfolk. The ship is leaving port on the 7th. I’ll be on the_ USS Ranger _, as usual. It’s become something of a second home to me and the other men I fly with. We’re going somewhere tropical (not allowed to be specific), so you may proceed to be jealous now. The temperatures will be in the high 70s, even in January! Mother taught me that it’s impolite to gloat, but I think my breaking that rule is the least of her worries._

_We won’t be returning to port until late March. We do have a mail room on the ship, but letters will be very slow coming and going and every single one is read by censors. I won’t be ashore for the 18th, so I will say “H. A.” now. Please let me know when Sam and Jess pick a date for their wedding. If I would be welcome to attend and able to get to Kansas, I would love to do so. If I cannot be there, I would like to send them a card or gift, at the least. I have included the ship’s mailing address at the bottom of the letter. I should be back to shore in Norfolk in late March._

_On a final note, I am very excited about this tour of duty, not least of all because I have tired of training for now, but because we are finally getting new planes! I am not at liberty to discuss details of the planes, but they won’t be bi-planes and for that I could not be more grateful! My squadron is testing them out, as well, which is always quite the adventure and a little bit dangerous. No need to worry, though. We have parachutes and I’m a very good swimmer._

_I hope you are doing well._

_Yours,_

_Cas_

 

Dean smiled the whole while he read Cas’s letter. Everything from imagining Cas and Anna tipsy on New Year’s Eve, to gloating about nice weather and the secret little “H. A.” message, which certainly stood for “Happy Anniversary.” The 18th of January marked one year from their first date and first kiss. A whole year had passed, which was pretty remarkable for Dean. Both of them had confessed to never having a relationship that lasted this long. Dean was glad that, of anyone, Cas was the person with whom he had reached that milestone. Laughing at himself for such sappy thoughts, he read on and laughed aloud at Cas’s final note about parachutes and swimming. He could just imagine the other man’s dry tone and wry smile as he delivered those lines. It would have been hilarious.

Benny caught him laughing and looked over at Dean from his bunk. “Gonna share the joke, brother?”

“It’s a letter from my best friend...” Dean said. He had taken to referring to Cas that way, because it conveyed the closeness without being suspicious. Or so he hoped, anyway. “His squadron is going to sea and apparently testing new planes, which he says can be dangerous. But not to worry, because they have parachutes and he’s a good swimmer.”

When Dean finished talking, Benny raised a brow at him and didn’t laugh.

“It’s funnier if you know him, I guess...” Dean shrugged and thought to himself, _or if you’re in love with him_.

“Must be. But parachute wouldn’t do him too much good if the plane explodes.”

“Gee, thanks.” Dean rolled his eyes and folded up the letter, tucking it back into the envelope. “But that’s kinda the joke. ‘Oh, don’t worry, if my plane explodes over the ocean, I’ll be fine, I’m a good swimmer.’ See?”

Benny considered that, then nodded and chuckled. “Yeah, okay, I see.” He kicked back on his bunk again. “That’s Cas, right?”

“Yup.” Dean nodded and opened another letter, from an old school friend in Kansas.

“Where is his squad heading?”

“Somewhere tropical -- he can’t say.”

“Damn...” Benny whistled. “Lucky bastard. I’d love to be out on sea in the tropics, floating on a boat, wind in your hair. Warm air, cool water...”

Dean chuckled. “Well, yeah, would be a nice vacation, but I don’t think he’s quite out for a pleasure cruise.”

“You ever been on a naval ship?” Ash chimed in from the bunk above Dean.

Benny looked up at him, “No? Have you?”

“I’ve seen ‘em, photographs in books. I betcha Cas’s entire room on the ship is the size of our bunk and the floorspace between ours and yours. Everything’s steel, no room to move around. Good chance he shares it, too.”

Benny’s eyes turned back to Dean for confirmation. Cas never mentioned what his living quarters on the ship were like, so he just shrugged. “Beats me.”

“It may be cold and rainy here, we may have to share with twenty other guys, but at least there’s room to breathe. And no chance of our beds sinking in the night.” Ash said. “I’m sure your friend is used to it, but me? I’ll take dry land any day.”

“I used to go sailing,” Benny wore a wistful smile and looked off at nothing in particular. “Course, we had lots of space on our little boats. Only held my parents and I, plus whoever else we took along. Before I left to come here, I took Andrea out onto the water. Boys, ain’t much better than makin’ love to your girl beneath the stars on your own private ship.”

“I do enough rocking of my bed without needing any waves,” Ash said, grinning.

“Wow, I do not need to think about that, thanks.” Dean groaned and tried to focus on his letter. “Feel free to shut your traps any time.”

Ash and Benny both laughed and teased him a little longer, but then they let the subject drop.

 

* * *

 

_**7 January 1941** _

As soon as he boarded the Ranger, with his pack of belongings hanging over his shoulder, Cas went straight to the hanger. Aircraft carriers were unlike any other ship. The uppermost deck was a long flat rectangle that looked like little more than a runway. At the center was a structure called the island that held the Navigation Bridge and other important rooms. While out on the tour, the new planes would be out on the flight deck ready for use, but for now they were all down in the hanger, and that’s exactly where Cas wanted to be.

They were brand new and beautiful. A fresh paint job and not a single scratch on them yet, they had grey bodies, yellow wings and a green tail. Grumman made, model F4F-3 planes. Cas walked right up to one and slid his hand along the cold, metal body of it. He touched the wing and grinned. Prior to this, the only planes his squadron had received were bi-planes, which did their job admirably, but monowing planes had more maneuverability. He had trained plenty of pilots on monos back at the base, but training wasn’t anything like combat, not really. That was all about formations and targeting, how to escape an enemy on your tail, the textbook stuff. Being out on patrol meant more leeway and being in the air with his squad in these new babies would be a real treat.

Testing new planes was fun, too. A pilot had to keep on his toes with these because there was no one to tell you their little quirks and oddities. That would be their job, to find out what you could do with them, find their limits, their hidden talents and their shortcomings. Pilots could -- and would -- write essays about the planes, what to tell the manufacturers to do differently the next go and what the kids in training needed to know about them. But reading it in an aviation journal didn’t have anything on discovering it all yourself.

“Shoulda known I’d find you here, fondling the new birds,” came a familiar voice from behind Castiel. He turned with a grin to see Gabriel standing there, arms crossed and grinning right back.

“I’m surprised I didn’t find you here before me.” Cas walked over to Gabe and they embraced briefly, then stepped back. “Are we in the same cabin again?” Being an officer, Cas and his fellow pilots, got an actual cabin, whereas the other men on the ship had to share one large room with bunks. The only luxury the cabin afforded was privacy, he shared with one other man, usually Gabe, but had no more space than anyone else onboard. Only the Captain or an Admiral -- very high ranking officers -- had a cabin with any kind of extra space.

“But of course, and I’ve already stolen the bottom bunk.”

“Of course.” Cas chuckled and nodded. “Like having the older brother I never wanted.”

“You love me and you know it.” Gabe rolled his eyes and then turned to look at the planes. He took a deep breath and sighed. “Can’t wait to get up in these babies...”

“Me either. Have you found the others yet?”

“Bal and Inias are in the cabin across from ours, they’re getting settled in now. You ought to do the same. Inias will probably be up here any second to check out the planes, he could barely contain himself.”

Castiel laughed. Inias was the youngest of the four friends and ever eager. Sometimes Cas thought of him like one of his students, but the young man was a very capable pilot and had been through some real ordeals in the air. He had earned his stripes as much as the next man, but all three of them would likely always be protective of him. It occurred to Cas then that Inias was probably close to the same age as Dean, if not older. That was a sobering thought.

Taking a deep breath and shaking his head, Cas turned to Gabe. “I guess I’ll head down to the cabin now.”

“Alright. How about we all meet up in the wardroom later?”

Cas nodded, and waved to Gabe before doing just that. He knew his way around the Ranger as well as his own home by now. Most ships were confusing and it took months to become acquainted with the layout. Each hall looked much like the last and there were few markings for guidance. The stairs the led from one deck to the next were so steep they might as well be ladders leaned up against a wall. It was a treacherous world they lived in, but it was home while they were out at sea. Cas felt odd any time he had to serve on a different ship, though that happened from time to time.

When he arrived at his bunk, he unpacked his belongings in the coffin - the name for a locker on a ship -- assigned to him. His bed amounted to a thin mattress and flat pillow on a slab of metal mounted to the wall. There wasn’t much space between his bunk and the ceiling. Gabe didn’t get any more space between his bunk and the bottom of Cas’s. Living was cramped and Gabe was actually lucky to be so short in a place like this. There wasn’t too much to be done at the moment, everyone was getting settled in and the new recruits on the ship were learning their jobs. Tonight, Cas and the others would most likely begin doing official checks of their new planes, eat dinner and receive their schedules for the next day.

Dinner, for officers, was held in the wardroom, while the enlisted men had a larger room, more like a cafeteria. The Ranger had just over two hundred officers on board, most of whom were pilots. The number of enlisted men was two thousand more than that, and they did a wide range of jobs, from working in the engine to  doing laundry, from cooking to ammunitions. On board, there was a full medical wing, with doctors and a dentist; there was even a barber. Men on board carriers might be at sea for months on end, especially in times of war. Navy guys referred to aircraft carriers as floating cities or cities at sea, because they were so large and offered so many services. As big as it was, though, as soon as you were in the air trying to land on the flight deck, nothing made a carrier seem quite big enough.

Cas found Balthazar in the wardroom when he got there, Gabe and Inias showed up a little later. The room was large and had a few tables with comfortable chairs set around them, where the officers could have meetings or meals. There were also newspaper and magazine stands with more chairs located beside them. The wardroom was both a lounge and a place for meals and restricted to officers only.

“Home again, home again,” Gabe said, plopping down in one of the chairs beside Bal.

“Jiggidy jig,” Inias replied, with a grin at his friends.

Cas shook his head at the pair of them. “Have you had ample time to check out the planes?”

“Yeah, they’re Grumman F4F-3s, with P&W R-1830-76 Twin Wasp engines and two 12.7 millimeter Browning machine guns mounted on each wing and two--”

“Okay, okay, slow down there,” Bal interrupted his eager spec detailing. “I’m sure we’ll hear about it in the briefing.”

Inias dropped his head down shyly and Gabe patted him on the back. “Don’t let him fool you, Bal is just as excited as the rest of us. Even Cassy there was grinning.”

All eyes turned to Cas, who was, in fact, smiling at Inias, he gave a nod. “Anything is better than those bi-wing planes.”

“Not to mention, we get to be the first to fly them.” Inias perked back up, matching Cas’s grin.

“Exactly!” Gabe cheered and Bal rolled his eyes, though he was smiling too.

“As long as you don’t keep me up all night talking about it.” He warned, wagging a finger at Inias.

“Promise!” The young pilot said and they all laughed. Inias began trying to gush about the planes again and, once more, Bal groaned at him.

The teasing went back and forth in the wardroom; Cas didn’t mind the the banter at all, he enjoyed it. Being with these guys, his best friends in the squad, was what he always assumed family life was like. As he listened to the other three, throwing in his own comments here and there, Cas wondered if this is what life with Dean and his little brother, Sam, was like. If they joked and teased at the dinner table, easygoing and free. Before he knew it, Cas was smiling fondly and Bal called him out on it.

“What’s the grin all about, Castiel?” Bal’s tone showed he was needling at something.

Cas played it off with a small laugh and shook his head, “Just realized I missed the sound of your quarreling.”

“Aww,” Gabe cooed. “He’s homesick for us.”

“Don’t worry, my friend.” Bal said, reaching out to set a hand on Cas’s shoulder. “There’s plenty where that came from. In a few weeks, you’ll be wishing for dry land and a train ticket away from us.”

Cas laughed, “I think you’re confusing me with yourself.”

“Darling, I never confuse anyone with myself.”

“Yeah, no one’s as conceited as you.” Gabe grinned and Inias snickered. Bal shot the younger man a dirty look and he just shrugged innocently.

“If the shoe fits...” Inais offered and Bal punched him in the arm. “Ouch! Gabe said it!”

“He’s farther away.”

The topic of conversation eventually turned to what everyone had done while they were apart, how everyone’s families were doing and a bit of dishing on love lives. Cas kept quiet on all accounts except his time at the training facility. Inias asked about what kind of planes he was training with and the others asked for stories about his students. No one expected that Cas had gotten up to any mischief, because he rarely did. Though when Gabe asked if he spent any time doing anything fun in Chicago, Cas smiled and mentioned that he caught a Glenn Miller performance.

Eventually a ranking officer gave orders over the ship’s PA system and they all had work to do and tasks to complete. The ship had set sail, aiming south towards the tropics and away from the chilly shores of Virginia.

 

* * *

 

_**8 January, 1941** _

The Ranger had set sail across the Atlantic Ocean, passing the shores of North Carolina and from the flight deck, as far as the eye could see, was nothing but vast waters. The sun was blindingly bright with nothing in the clear sky to block its rays, but the ocean winds and the movement of the carrier made that January afternoon feel even colder than at the base at Norfolk. No one was complaining about wearing full uniforms today -- though it might be a different story when they reached the Bahamas.

Cas was holed up in his new plane, doing flight checks and waiting for his turn to take off. It was their first time going up in the new F4F’s and even Cas couldn’t deny the thrill of excitement and anticipation. He knew Gabe and Bal would be just as giddy as Inias in their pilot seats, waiting for the Signal Officer to flag the go-ahead.

“Little bit cramped in here,” Bal’s voice came over the radio.

“I’m alright,” Gabe replied and Cas could tell he wore his mischievous grin as he said it.

“You’re also several inches shorter,” Cas quipped back. The cockpit was on the smaller side and made the plane less comfortable than others he had been in. But being as tall as he was, Cas was generally used to feeling cramped in aircraft. The coms went quiet then, since they weren’t really supposed to be using them to chatter. On the runway, a catapult helped launch one of the new planes. Though there was usually enough space to get up to speed for takeoff, catapults made the process a lot easier.

As the plane went up, it wobbled and Cas held his breath until it was clear. The next plane taxied into place. Men on the ground ran about hooking it up to the catapult and readying the craft for launch. It went up with a wobble as well and Cas frowned as he moved his own plane into place next. A bad take off didn’t ever bode well, but soon it would be his turn to try. One of the less than ideal features about the new planes was the landing gear, which shouldn’t seem to be a problem on take off, except that it was manually lowered and retracted, which meant winding a crank with one hand.

Cas took a deep breath as his plane was attached to the catapult. With one hand on the control stick and one on the crank, he watched for the signal. All at once the plane pushed off at a high speed, he accelerated the engine, kept his eyes ahead and once his wheels left the deck, he pulled up and began cranking the landing gear up into the fuselage. With a clenched jaw, he did his best to keep the plane from wobbling too much and nearly thirty rotations of the crank later, the gear was set.

Releasing a held breath, Cas relaxed as both hands went to the controls and he turned the plane to the side. A smile spread across his face as he looked out over the open ocean. Not much beat that view. Though there wasn’t much to see except water, nothing near as breathtaking as the Grand Canyon or a mountain range, there was something nostalgic about being out over the water in a plane, and Cas liked that.

The plane’s cockpit didn’t offer as much visibility as he would have liked, unfortunately, and it had clearly been taken into account. There were windows at the bottom of the cockpit so he could peer down beneath him, which could prove useful in a fight if the pilots lost sight of the enemy. Considering that, it was odd that visibility wasn’t great. All the same, the plane handled very well and as Cas turned his plane around, testing its ability, he caught sight of Gabe in a plane near him. The other pilot signaled a thumbs up and Cas laughed, returning the sign.

Gabe pulled away and began testing the plane’s limits as well, diving and swooping in his seemingly reckless way. Being a copilot to Gabriel would likely be terrifying, but Cas knew that Gabe was an incredibly skilled pilot. If another life, he could probably make good money doing stunt work of some sort, with the tricks he could do. Bal and Inias were more reserved in the air, with Cas’s behavior somewhere in the middle. All in all, there were a dozen or so pilots in the air, all seeing what their aircraft could and couldn’t do. The real tests wouldn’t happen until they were in proper combat, but this was the best they could do for now.

Flying his plane farther away from the group, Cas tried firing the guns. Wasting ammunition wasn’t condoned, but testing the guns in flight was necessary. The new planes had four guns, two mounted on the wings and two mounted inside. They all fired well and, from what he could see through the gunsights, seemed to fly true. Cas pulled the plane around and tried firing again, only to have the guns jam.

“Damn...” He frowned and spoke into the radio. “My guns are jamming.”

“I’ll come try mine.” Gabe said in response and flew his plane away from the group while Cas tried again, to no avail.

Gabe fired a few rounds off before stopping. Then his voice came through the radios once more.

“Nope, mine are jammed, too.” The two of them circled around and headed back towards the carrier so they could look into what the problem was. Meanwhile, Bal and Inias tried theirs. Both of their guns fired successfully on several attempts. The two of them stayed in the air, along with a few others, while Gabe, Cas, and anyone else with jamming guns awaited their turn to land.

Landing a new plane wasn’t much different from any other plane, on most occasions. Cas came around and looked for the Landing Signal Officer -- another pilot, dressed in white, standing where he could be easily seen with flags in hand -- to tell him that he was cleared for landing. It was the LSO’s job to let pilots know if they were on the right trajectory to land properly, since the margin of error was very, very small.

Cas came in easily, cranked out his landing gear, and narrowed his focus, jaw set, as he landed the plane. The tiny wheels hit the deck and he pressed the brakes, though it wasn’t fully necessary. Three sets of cables lined the flight deck and a hook on the rear of the plane was used to catch one of the cables and stop the craft. Cas, and most pilots, aimed for the second cable and caught it. The plane slowed to a stop and people scurried about quickly, helping him taxi the plane out of the way so Gabe could land immediately behind him.

The flight deck was dangerous and busy and no one ever stopped moving while they were on it. Once the plane was out of the way, Cas popped the cockpit hatch and jumped out, calling down to the service crew. “My guns started jamming. Gabe’s too and a few others. That’s a problem.”

Inspections would be made and they would have to find the problem and plan a solution, preferably before they saw any action. It shouldn’t be too much of an issue on neutrality patrol, but this was the exact reason for flight tests. Once Cas was out of his plane and on the deck, he watched as Gabe’s plane taxied over to his. They stopped on one of the deck’s large elevators, which lowered them and their planes down into the hangar, one level below. Once the planes were off the elevator, they began looking into the problem. A few ammunitions experts, along with pilots and engineers were called in to help. They inspected Cas and Gabe’s planes, along with any others that came in reporting jammed guns.

After an hour of inspections, someone shouted, “Hey! Look at this.” Cas, Gabe and others gathered around as the man, one of the ammunition experts, pulled out an ammo case. He pointed to the belts inside it. “They’re out of alignment. The belts must have shifted around while you were flying.”

“Shouldn’t they have tested that before sending them out?” Gabe asked, pulling his face in annoyance.

“Not really.” The man shook his head. “They don’t bother fully loading the cases with ammo during tests, just what they need for the tests. That way they don’t waste ammo.”

“That would explain why ours jammed and the others’ didn’t. We were maneuvering more than they were.” Cas said and Gabe turned to him, grinning.

“See, being wild comes in handy sometimes.”

“I suppose so.” Cas turned back to the ammo guy. “Now how do we fix this?”

“Spacers, I guess.” He shrugged. “We’ll have to fabricate something that will hold the belts in place so they don’t shift when you’re diving and dodging.”

“Guess we’re grounded for now, eh?” Gabe frowned at Cas.

“Just for a little while. Let’s go back up, make ourselves useful.”

When Cas and Gabe returned to the flight deck, they saw others pilots scouting and testing their planes or taking turns coming in for a landing. The two of them probably wouldn’t go back up for the rest of the day, so they instead they watched their friends in the air. As planes landed, they helped get them out of the way and sometimes chatted about how the new planes handled.

Bal and Inias started making rounds to come in for a landing. The elder, British pilot came down first, hooking the second arresting cable and stopping his plane with ease. He taxied quickly out of the way as Inias made his descent. Everything was going well at first, but he came in a little too quickly and when he caught the cable, there was too much tension. Cas saw it as it happened, the cable snapped and flailed wildly. He, and other witnesses, shouted as loud as they could, warning the men on deck of the loose wire.

The speed and weight of the cable was extremely dangerous and those who saw it or heard the warning calls jumped over the loose cable or dodged out of its way. Those who were less lucky got hit and were knocked down. Medics were called for and anyone who wasn’t busy ran to their sides to check what damage the cable had done. Meanwhile, Inias’s plane was still coming in hot. The brakes on the landing gear’s small tires squealed as he tried to stop the plane with them alone.

Carriers had back up in such an event and the plane careened forward into a net of wires designed to stop it. The nose of the plane hit the net and the craft spun to the side. There was a tense moment before it finally stopped. Activity on deck couldn’t stop with it, though. The LSO quickly signaled any other planes intending to land away so the flight deck could be cleared and the cable fixed. Communications officers radioed the planes to be wary of their fuel levels in the meantime. They needed the arresting gear in place before anyone else could try landing.

Cas ran over to Inias’s plane, Gabe and Bal on their way behind him. The younger pilot had his cockpit open and was climbing down when they got there. His hands were shaking visibly, but otherwise seemed fine. The plane would need some repairs.

“You okay, kiddo?” Gabe called up. Inias stepped down onto the deck and nodded, eyes wide.

“Yeah, think so...”

“That your first emergency landing?” Bal laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.

“It was,” He wiped his hands over his face.

“You did fine.” Cas assured him. “We need to get your plane out of the way. You too. Bal, take him to the medical bay, make sure he’s fine. Gabe, help me get this thing moved.”

They all did as Cas said; he and Gabe, along with several others, pushed the plane over to one of the elevators to the hangar, so damage could be checked and repairs made.

“Eventful day, huh?” Gabe asked, once they were done and left standing in the hangar.

“That it is,” he nodded. “Next comes the paperwork.”

Gabe groaned. “Don’t remind me...”

 

* * *

 

_**24 January, 1941** _

_Dean,_

_If I’m timing this right, you should be getting this letter on your birthday. So, Happy Birthday! How are things going at the base? I’m sure you’re at the top of your class. Unless you’ve accidentally shot someone, but you hadn’t said anything about that in the last letter, so I assume not. Things are good at home, too. Jess and I finally set a date for the wedding. (Can this count as a birthday present?)_

_We will be getting married Saturday, May 31st. You better get leave, because I expect you to be the Best Man. Brady will be my other groomsman, he’s already said yes. Jess told me to tell you not to get me drunk the night before the wedding. She said I’m not allowed to have a hangover on the day of. You’re pretty tough, but I hear women get scary just before a wedding. My Jess is perfect, of course, but I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side, either._

_Also, we are working on a guest list and I talked to Jess, she and I agree that you can bring anyone you want to the wedding as your “plus one.” So if there isn’t a girl, you can bring a friend; we’re both fine with it. We want everyone to have a good time at the wedding. I don’t think it’s going to be very formal. We’re both too casual for that. Jess and Mom are both real excited, though, talking about colors and fabric and dresses. Did you know what a swatch was? They have been talking about swatches all week and I finally asked them what it was. I swear to you, Dean, they looked at me like I asked what year it was. I guess it’s a little square of fabric or something. Did you know that? Because I didn’t._

_Anyway, it’s nice to see Jess, Mom and Jess’s mom having a good time together. Dad and I just stay out of their way. I wish you could be here for this. I could just imagine you, all wide eyed and saying something like ‘weddings make women crazy’. Or, ‘Man, I am never getting married.’ But I would know you were happy for me all the same._

_Okay, enough of the sappy stuff. Really, Happy Birthday! I miss you. Mom and Dad send their love. (I know, I know, Mom sent you a letter from them already.) Take care of yourself. I’ll send updates as I get them._

_Your Baby Brother,_

_Sammy._

_p.s. yes, I signed it that way cause I miss you_

_p.p.s. shut up. jerk._

 

Dean folded the letter up and tucked it back into the envelope and smiled. Baby brother, all grown up. “Miss you, too, Sammy...” He whispered quietly, then put it with all the other letters from Sam.

“Somethin’ in that letter sure put you in a good mood.” Benny commented from his bunk. “Smiling like that.”

“Just my little brother. I told you he’s getting married, well, they set the date. May 31st.”

“They grow up so fast, don’t they?” Benny pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.

“They do!” Dean sniffled dramatically.

“Y’all done yet?” Ash asked and jumped down from his bunk. “It’s Friday night. It’s your birthday.” He pointed at Dean. “Let’s go celebrate!”

“Not a bad idea.” Dean looked over at Benny with a smile.

“Not at all,” Benny shook his head and stood. Some weekends, they were allowed to go to town with permission from their commanding officer, and tonight was one of those nights. The celebration wasn’t anything particularly special, just a local club which provided music, dancing and drinks.

“Okay, first drink’s on me,” Ash proclaimed, gesturing for Dean to order whatever he wanted from the bartender.

“I got your next round, Brother.” Benny patted him on the back and flashed one of his charming, southern boy smiles.

“After that, you’re on your own.” Ash grinned. “We’re your friends, but we’re just as broke as you are!”

“Alright, alright. Fair enough.” Dean turned to the bartender. “I’ll have whiskey, neat, thanks.”

The tender, an older fellow -- probably too old to serve in the armed forces -- poured the drink and set it on the counter for Dean. He picked it up, nodded his thanks to the old man and to Ash, then turned to lean back against the counter and check out the venue. It was full of people, but not crowded. Men and women alike were happily dancing to the music, played by a jive band. Skirts were twirling around women’s legs as their partners spun them about. Feet kicked in beat with the music and arms flung about above them. Laughter and delighted calls paired with the band nicely, making the entire atmosphere more fun.

Dean sipped his whiskey and sighed. “Thanks for bringing me out tonight, boys.”

“That’s what friends are supposed ta do, right?” Benny tilted his head to look at Dean.

“Plus, it’s an excuse to get out and go drinking.” Ash flashed a grin, then took a drink of the beer he had ordered.

“Sure you wouldn’t rather be doing a crossword?” Dean teased.

“I’d rather be drinking a beer while I do the crossword.” He saluted with his glass and the others laughed. “Now. Down to business. Dean, we gotta find you a gal to dance with.”

That statement wiped the smile off Dean’s face and replaced it with startled confusion. “What? Why?”

“Because, it’s your birthday. We gotta hook you up with someone. Ya’ just might get lucky, too.”

“Guys, come on,” Dean recovered and feigned annoyance. “I just want to enjoy the music. I don’t want to dance.

“Nonsense.” Ash waved him off and began checking the playing field for a target. When he settled on one, he grinned and hooked an arm around Dean’s shoulders. Using the hand that still held his beer glass, Ash pointed out a young woman with short, dark hair, done up in neat waves. She was wearing a purple dress and bouncing to the music, a little smile on her face. While she clearly enjoyed the tune being played, she didn’t have a dance partner. “There. Her. You said you like dark hair, right?”

Dean caught sight of the girl Ash was pointing out and cleared his throat. One day while the trio was talking about girls, Dean blurted out that he liked dark hair; he was picturing Cas at the time, of course. “Yeah, uhm, guess I do.”

“So, go ask her to dance.” Ash nudged him.

“I told you, I don’t feel like dancing.”

“It’s your birthday. You’re going to have a good time even if we have to force you to.”

“How’s about I ask her for ya’.” Benny grinned and before Dean had a chance to stop him, he sauntered off towards the girl. Dean watched in aggravation as Benny used his Southern charm and smooth drawl to talk her into dancing. He saw Benny smiling and gesturing in Dean’s direction and when the girl smiled as well, he knew he had no hope of getting out of this. Benny waved him over and Ash pushed him the first few steps. Dean quickly downed his whiskey and left the glass on the bartop, trying to think of an excuse not to dance before he reached the girl. Sadly, his normally crafty mind had failed him.

Benny patted him on the shoulder once he got there, then abandoned him with the girl. Dean gave a half hearted chuckle-smile combination that just reeked of awkwardness. The girl must have seen he wasn’t sure what to do and took pity on him.

“Hi, I’m Tessa. And you’re Dean?”

“Yep. Yeah, Dean, that’s me. Uhm...” He gestured back over his shoulder towards Benny. “I’m sorry about him-- this-- that...”

She laughed and it was a nice sound, like she understood what was going on. “Benny explained that it’s your birthday and you need a dance partner.”

“It is my birthday, yes, but I -- I mean, those guys, they think I need a dance partner, but I--”

“Happy Birthday, Dean. How’s about we take a twirl around the floor to get those guys off your back and I promise I won’t get the wrong impression.”

“The wrong impression?”

“Something tells me you’re not particularly interested in me.” Tessa smiled, not appearing offended by this fact.

“Well, I--” Dean cleared his throat, wondering if she could somehow magically tell that he was interested in men. He seized up. “It’s not that I--” He didn’t want to insult her, either, but didn’t know how to explain.

Tessa laughed again and shook her head. She reached out and set a hand on his shoulder. “If you’ve got a sweetheart somewhere that those boys just don’t know about, I understand. You don’t have to explain to them, or to me, but in my experience? They’re not likely to give up on making you dance with someone unless they get an excuse. So. Dance with me and avoid explaining things to them. Everyone wins.”

“How do you win?” Dean asked, brows drawing together in confusion.

“I get a dance partner and don’t have to worry about your hand going up my skirt!” She snickered.

That put Dean at ease, he laughed as well.

“Men are dogs -- no offense.”

“No, no.” He shook his head. “You’re right, we are.”

“So, shall we dance?” She held her hand out to him and smiled warmly. In another situation, he might have been happy to dance with her, she seemed like the kind of straight-forward girl he would have liked being friends with. Dean led her out onto the dance floor just as one song was ending and the other was beginning. He briefly thought of Cas, and how he’d prefer to be on the dance floor with him, but knew the other man would understand the situation. Cas had probably found himself in similar positions before, in his high society life. Surely he had been dragged to fancy parties with dancing. Dean would have to ask him about it later.

In the meantime, the band struck up the new tune and Dean let his mind clear as he danced Tessa around the floor. She was pretty good. While he wasn’t the best dancer, he wasn’t half bad, either. He was a strong lead and didn’t step on her feet, which was probably enough. Tessa smiled like she was having a good time and before he knew it, Dean was smiling as well. He had always been a fan of good music and dancing was fun when there were no pretenses about it. When the song ended and a new one began, they carried on dancing right through it.

By the end of the third song, they both needed a break -- and a drink. Tessa thanked him for the dances and excused herself to powder her nose and get a sip of water. Dean returned to Ash and Benny, wondering what kind of chatter he would have to endure now. He pointed directly at Benny, “I believe it’s your turn to buy my drink.”

Benny laughed around a crooked grin. “Looked like ya’ll were havin’ some fun out there.”

“Yeah, she’s nice.” Dean waved the bartender over and ordered a beer. Benny paid for it.

“Think you’ll be goin’ home with her tonight?” He nudged Dean in the side.

“She was only looking for a dance partner.” Dean shook his head and took a drink of his beer once it was set before him. “And I’m done letting you guys hook me up. Can’t we just have a guy’s night out? It’s my birthday, I should decide how I spend it.”

“Fine, fine,” Ash joined the conversation. “If you want to be a whiner about it.”

“Oh, you haven’t heard whining.” Dean chuckled and shot Ash a grin. “Let’s just enjoy the music and the drinks, alright?”

“Alright, brother.” Benny conceded, as well. They all fell silent for a moment to listen and sip their drinks, then Benny spoke up again. “My Andrea and I could really cut a rug.”

“Really?” Dean looked over at Benny, he couldn’t imagine the big guy dancing.

“Yeah. She would drag me out to the club every night in the summer when we were in high school.” He laughed fondly at the memory. “The gal loves to swing.”

“Must have been a good time.” Dean smiled. “You miss her?”

“Every single day.” Benny replied without a second thought.

“Yeah...” Dean nodded, and again his mind turned to Cas, out on the ocean somewhere.

 

* * *

 

_**4 February, 1941** _

A shipment of mail arrived on the Ranger and all the men were thrilled to get some of their first letters after nearly a month at sea. They missed their loved ones and some men sent out dozens of letters each on this first shipment out. The censors were surely busy going cross-eyed reading all of them. Cas had only sent a few out, mostly just to Anna, because he hadn’t yet gotten a reply from Dean. He was looking forward to this delivery, perhaps a little more so than he would like to admit.

Sure enough, in his stack of letters, there were three from Anna, one from his mother, and two from Dean. Cas smiled and took his letters back to his shared cabin and settled on his bunk to read them. While some of the pilots liked to read theirs in the officer’s wardroom, where the tables made it easy write out their replies, Cas preferred the privacy. Gabriel was out of the room at the time and that was even better. The pair of them were much like brothers, which unfortunately meant that Gabe had a tendency to pry sometimes and Cas would rather avoid incessant questions he didn’t want to answer. He tore open the envelope with the older post-mark, from mid-January, first.

_Cas,_

_Your New Year’s celebration sounds like it must have been quite fun. I would love to see what you and Anna look like when you’re drunk. It would be a sight to see, I’m sure. Is that a tradition of yours? My whole family spent the New Year at a party that Jess’s family threw. It was nice, kind of quiet, but in a good way. They’re a nice family and I’m really happy for her and Sammy. I’ll let you know when they set a date for the wedding. Sammy and Jess would probably want me to tell you, ‘A gift is unnecessary.’ But I think good manners require them to say that kind of thing._

_I bet you’re having a good time on the ship and flying again. It’s swell that you and the other pilots in your squadron are such good friends. Benny, Ash and I have become a band of brothers here at the base. I’d ask about your new planes, but that’d be pointless, so I’ll just ask if you’re enjoying them. Are you enjoying them? (I’m a fantastic pen-pal, and you know it.) I am, in fact, jealous of your mysterious tropical climate. It’s already cold here and I would prefer to be in a hammock under some palm trees. Though, I guess you don’t have palm trees on your ship, either? Do you have hammocks? I think I heard somewhere that some ships actually have hammocks instead of beds or bunks. Is that true? Is it comfortable? It seems like it would be fun at first, but get old after a while._

_Oh, by the way, I’m glad to hear that you’re a good swimmer. Make sure those parachutes are ready. Don’t crash, I hear planes are expensive. And H.A. to you, too. I’m writing this on the 18th, as a matter of fact. Of course, it won’t be sent today. And you won’t get it until after today. But you understand what I’m going for here. I’m going to stop being a doofus now. Take care of yourself out there, Cas. I hope you’re doing well._

_Yours,_

_Dean_

 

Cas couldn’t help but smile and laugh a little at the last paragraph. He found himself biting the corner of his bottom lip and had to shake his head. A love-struck fool, that’s what he had become. But it seemed Dean had, as well, in his own way. It had really been a full year since their first date. That was a strange feeling for Cas. Strange, but pleasant. He set the first letter aside and opened the second, more recent one.

 

_Cas,_

_I don’t know whether you got my first letter yet or not, but I’m sending you another because I have news! Sam and Jess have set a wedding date. They’re getting married in Kansas on May 31st. Sam wrote me a letter and in it he said, and I quote, “you can bring anyone you want to the wedding as your ‘plus one.’ So if there isn’t a girl, you can bring a friend.” So that means you’re welcome, if you want to come to a wedding. I can’t promise it will be fun, but it’s an excuse for a vacation, right? In beautiful, scenic... Lawrence, Kansas. Okay, so it’s no ritzy place like Chicago or New York, but it’s a nice little town._

_That’s kind of all the news I have, except that my birthday just recently passed. I’m at the ripe old age of 26 now, officially closer to 30 than 20. (I can imagine your desire to punch me for that comment, considering you’re already over that hill.) It was a decent birthday, because it fell on a Friday. The boys took me out to a nearby club that night, we had a few drinks and listened to music. They insisted on forcing me to dance with a girl there. Her name was Tessa and she was nice, but looking for a dance partner and nothing more._

_It made me wonder, though, did you ever get dragged to parties where you had to dance with stuffy-type society girls? Do you like to dance? I don’t think I would be all that great at following fancy dance moves or anything, but I like music pretty well and when a song is good, sometimes you can’t help but get caught up in it. Do you ever feel that way? Or are you more the wallflower, stoic type? Anyway, just wondering. It was a pretty good birthday. I hope things are going well for you. Take care, be careful out there. Catch some sun for me, because it’s still really cold here. We’ve had snow and ice and practice drills outside are just painful. The cold gets in your bones and won’t let go, sometimes. So you damn well better enjoy any warm weather you have, wherever you are!_

_Yours,_

_Dean_

 

Reading the last line, Cas had to laugh again, this time at the irony. Though the weather had been warm, in the last few days the ship had been hit by some rather awful storms. They hadn’t been able to fly at all and he was starting to go a bit stir-crazy; the bobbing and rocking of the ship didn’t help matters. It was a small miracle that the fuel ship had been able to reach them when it had. It seemed now that the storms were possibly clearing up, and Cas was certainly planning on enjoying the good weather. He felt bad for Dean being out in the cold, though, and could certainly think of a few ways to warm the man’s body up again.

He longed for a day when they could share a bed again, and smiled at the thought of visiting for Sam’s wedding. Though Dean made it sound very casual in the letters, even mentioning a girl, he was confident now that Dean missed him as well. Cas had his doubts at times, especially being away for so long, but his faith in Dean had become stronger. He only had to think of their last time together to remember the passion they shared. Or think back on the call they shared at Christmas, or look at the bottom of every letter, where Dean still signed each one, “Yours.”

May 31st. Cas read the date again and committed it to memory. He would do what he could to find a way to get to Kansas for that wedding. The only problem was, he didn’t know where he would be when this tour ended in March, let alone where he would be come May. But if there was a way, Cas would find it. If he couldn’t get leave during the wedding, he would find another time, even if it was just to have a quick weekend in North Carolina.

Just then the ship lurched and rolled. Cas flung a hand up to press against the ceiling, so as not to fall right off his bunk, and sighed. Another storm. Hopefully this would be the last. The cabin door flew open and Cas glanced over to see Gabe, looking like he had lost his sea legs. Even a seasoned sailor couldn’t stand up straight in these conditions. Gabe held onto the bunk as he walked himself in, shaking his head.

“It has got to stop eventually.”

“We’ve been through worse.” Cas observed.

“I’ll say, two days ago!” Gabe laughed and crawled into the bunk beneath Cas’s. “At least the mail made it. You get anything good?”

“Yeah.” Cas smiled. “I did. You?”

“Letter from my mom. She sent a package of candy. Got a bit crushed, but still good.” The ship lurched again and Gabe cursed. “I’ll have to strap myself into bed tonight or find myself on the damn floor again.”

“Is this where I give you an opening for more bondage jokes?” Cas rolled his eyes. “About how you would prefer a partner to do the strapping?”

“Getting a bit routine, huh?” Gabe laughed. “These storms are getting a bit too routine for my tastes.”

“Just like you said, it will have to stop eventually.”

“That, or we’ll capsize and it won’t matter anyway.” Gabe yawned.

“Unlikely.” Cas tucked Dean’s letters away and settled into bed. “The storm isn’t nearly that bad tonight.”

He could hear the faint sound of Gabe’s laugh, then a quiet, “Night, Cas.”

“Goodnight, Gabe.”

“Sweet dreams, Cas.”

“Sweet dreams, Gabe.” Cas chuckled, then after a moment added, “Of beautiful women tying you to the bed.”

Another moment passed, then Cas heard Gabe laughing at the unexpected joke. They didn’t say anything more to each other, just laughed until they both fell asleep. Whatever thoughts Gabe had as he fell asleep, Cas didn’t especially care. His mind was on Dean and a bed in the small town of Lawrence, Kansas in the summer. Thoughts like that were what got a man through stormy nights at sea, foxholes on the battlefield and dogfights in the air.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone for reading, for your support, your kind comments and words of encouragement. This story exists because of people who keep reading it. (Well, and because I love it so much, myself!) Anyway, a great big THANK YOU to all of you! With any luck, the next chapter won't take 7 months to come out. :P


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all your support in between posting of chapters. A special thanks, as always, to my wonderful beta, supernaturallynoble. I couldn't do this without her. Thanks, also, to everyone who has stuck with the story! I promise, I have every intention of finishing it! For updates on progress, check out this new blog: http://angels-and-ammo.tumblr.com -- it's a quick, easy way to see if there is any news about the next chapter or teasers and excerpts before the chapters are published. Also, the artwork that people have done for this fic is gorgeous and can all be found on the blog. So it's totally worth checking out. Okay! I'm done blabbing now, go read!

_**10 February, 1941** _

_Dean,_

_I have no idea what day it will be when you get this letter. As I am writing it, the date is 11 January. The first Saturday on the ship. Your birthday should be coming up soon and it’s wishful thinking to imagine this will get to you in time. Either way, Happy Birthday, I hope you have a grand time! I also hope you have a nice day on the 18th, for that matter. I know I wrote about it in the last letter, but all the same._

_So far, being back on the ship has been very nice. Test flights and paper work consume most of my time, but Gabe drags me off to the wardroom at night for drinks and card games. He and I are bunking together, as we usually do. We share a small cabin with just two bunks. Bal and Inias are across the hall from us, they’re almost always around for the card games, too. There really isn’t much of interest to say right now, as I’m not allowed to say any of the interesting things! The weather is fair, the waters are calm, the planes are swell. Being around my friends again is very nice, too._

_I’ll look forward to the next mail shipment, whenever that may be. I presume I will have gotten your reply to my letter from New Year’s then._

_Until then,_

_Cas_

Dean read the letter quickly, smiling to see that Cas remembered his birthday, even though the letter wishing him a happy birthday couldn’t get to North Carolina in time for the actual day. He opened the next letter from Cas, to read what it said.

_Dean,_

_Though I haven’t even sent my previous letter yet, I’m writing you again. Now it is the thirty-first of January and your birthday has already passed. I hope a fuel ship will be here soon (they pick up and deliver mail), though the weather has been atrocious. We keep getting hit by storms and it’s getting a bit nauseating. Seasoned sailors though we may be, this kind of rocking can turn anyone’s stomach. Perhaps it is just desserts for gloating about the fine weather I would have! Though I doubt North Carolina is much better this time of year. How are you doing? How are Benny and Ash? For that matter, how are Sam and Jess? I hope by the time I receive your letter or letters, they will have chosen a date for their wedding._

_You see now how difficult communicating with someone at sea is. I can only apologize. I wish I had more to say. I should be back at shore by the end of March. Though I will likely be right back out on tour in April. At least by then I can catch up on letters._

_Your friend,_

_Cas_

The letter hardly said anything at all, and the fact that Cas stopped signing them “yours” hadn’t been lost on Dean. He decided to chalk it all up to ship censors, though. Dean couldn’t decide if it was better to reply to Cas now, or wait until he got a letter back from Cas replying to the last two he sent. A long distance relationship with a man while both men were in the military was not exactly an ideal situation. Having a communication delay only made things harder. While letters from Cas usually lifted Dean’s spirit, these two left him in a somewhat darker mood. And just before Valentine’s Day, too.

* * *

_**24 February, 1941** _

The _USS Ranger_ had been floating just off the coast of the Bahamian Islands for a few days now. The weather was fantastic, warm sun, cool breeze, birds flying in the distance, their calls echoing across the sea. The men on the flight deck wore tank tops or no tops at all if it wasn’t necessary for distinguishing their job. Signaling officers needed to stand out among the men, for example, and couldn’t run around shirtless. When planes weren’t taking off or landing, the flight deck was used for tanning by men with free time. This was the most relaxed anyone would be able to get on the ship.

Anyone, except for Cas’s squadron, that is. They had done patrol flights the previous day and all had gone just fine until they landed and were stowing the planes. No one could find Balthazar. He and Inias had gotten separated at some point and no one had a location on him. They called him over the radio on the planes, but got no answer. Best case scenario meant he was out of range, worst case scenario, he crashed. Either way, it put everyone involved on edge. Their commanding officer wasn’t particularly pleased, either.

However, it had been less than twenty four hours since he went missing and so they wouldn’t start a search party until later that day. So the three of them bided their time, absently playing cards or trying to keep their minds occupied as the clock on the wardroom wall ticked away. After twenty two hours, Cas gave in and went to the flight deck, intending to start preflight checks and let the officers on deck know he was getting ready to take off and search for Bal. Inias and Gabe took no convincing and followed him up, along with a few other men from their squadron that were friends with Bal.

It wasn’t like Balthazar to go AWOL and he was a charismatic guy, so he had lots of friends in the squad. Multiple pilots were worried about him and by now everyone was tense. With flight checks finished, Cas waited for the signal to taxi his plane to the catapult for launch. Suddenly, the LSO was signalling wildly. People were shouting on the flight deck and Cas popped open his cockpit hatch to better see and hear what was going on. A quick glance skyward revealed a familiar plane circling and awaiting landing signals.

Anyone idling about on deck scattered and techs took their places. The plane came in and landed without incident. Cas, Gabe, Inias and the other pilots intending to create the search party all ran to the landed plane as soon as they recognized Bal in the pilot’s seat. Glad to see him alive and well, and his plane in one piece, Cas called up to him. “Where were you?”

“Yeah! What the hell? Are you okay?” Gabe chimed in.

“You had us worried!” Inias chided. He had been the gloomiest of them all, because it was his job to be Bal’s wingman. Losing him reflected poorly on Inias, but also left him feeling overwhelming guilt for letting Bal down.

“Alright, alright, all’s well, lads.” He hopped down onto the deck and walked over to Inias. Setting a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, he looked earnestly down to him. “My fuel gauge went a bit bonkers and before I knew it, I was nearly empty. I tried to radio you, but I guess it didn’t work, either. I headed for an allied base and fueled up. On account of it getting late, they made arrangements for me to stay the night. So, today, I did a bunch of checks to see if I could find anything else buggy about the plane, then came back. It’s all fine.”

“You’re going to have a mound of paper work to do for this, you know.” Cas said, shaking his head, but glad to know that Bal was okay.

“Don’t I ever, Cassy. But it was worth it.”

“Why do you say that?” Gabe asked.

“Because, my dear... I did a little shopping while I was on the base.”

“What kind of shopping?” Cas narrowed his eyes.

“They had quite the stash of stockings. The plane is full of boxes.”

“You’re kidding!” Inias said, eyes wide. Ever since Japan joined the war on the side of the Germans, supplies that came from there - namely silk - had been hard to come by for allied nations. Without silk from Japan, stockings were in increasingly short supply.

If a military man didn’t have a girlfriend back home, he often found company in women around his base -- or in the case of Navy men, his port of call. These men gave women gifts and little was more coveted than a nice pair of stockings. It was equivalent to fine jewelry, for some women. Any men who did have a girlfriend would win her good graces with such a gift.

Bal’s plane full of stockings was a veritable gold mine. He was about to become a very, very popular man on the ship. And likely, a very rich one. Whatever he spent to buy those stockings would certainly be worth it, as would the paper work.

“Kidding you, I am not. Now help me unload it all and I’ll give you some for free.” Bal patted Inias on the shoulder and any men around clammered to help him unload the cargo with the promise of free stockings. Of course, they had to stop long enough for Bal to explain himself to the commanding officer who eventually arrived to chew him out. Though he got away with a slap on the wrist and a promise to give a stash of stockings to said officer.

Balthazar was a lucky devil, if Cas ever met one.

The excitement of the day didn’t end there. Along with the arrival of Bal’s silk stockings and his lucrative new side business, the fuel ship arrived with a shipment of mail. Cas had been excited to get his letters, always happy to hear from Dean. Sadly, when he searched through the small handful of letters addressed to him, none were from Dean, only Anna, his mother, and two from old friends from university. Either way, he was glad to have at least have the opportunity to send Dean his letters from the past month.

* * *

_**27 February, 1941** _

It had been over two weeks since Dean last received a letter from Cas and he was beginning to feel bad about the fact that he hadn’t written to Cas since the last ones arrived. He spent too many sleepless nights worrying that things might be falling apart or that this relationship was too hard to maintain. Then some memory of the time spent with the pilot would come back to Dean and he’d find himself in love all over again. It would be something small, like the way Cas delivered a joke or the way his face got serious when he talked about why he joined the Navy. Sometimes he would just think about the way Cas looked in Dean’s new hat, that night in Chicago.

Just because Dean still cared for Cas, though, didn’t mean that the feelings remained mutual, and if Dean didn’t do anything to maintain those feelings -- like sending letters in reply to the ones he received -- then there was no guarantee that he would keep the man. It was Thursday now, and Dean resolved to write to Cas on Friday, after training. No more delaying. With that on his mind, he stopped by the fort’s mailroom on his way back to the barracks. Sure enough, there was mail for him from the _USS Ranger_. Dean hurried back to his bunk to read it.

_Dean,_

_I’m sure time is difficult to keep track of during our correspondence, so I will endeavor to make it easier. I am writing in response to the letter you wrote me just after New Years. It is now early February as I write this. We recently received a shipment of mail, which is when I got your two most recent letters and sent some to you. The last ones you read. Obviously. Anyway, I will try to be clear in my replies so that they make sense._

_The manner in which Anna and I spent our New Years -- to answer your question -- is, in no way, a tradition. Though it would certainly be a good one, as far as she and I are concerned. The typical tradition is boring, so I’ll spare you a recount._

_Yes, I am enjoying the new planes. Test flights are always quite exciting, perhaps some years in the future I can regale you with the more amusing stories. You asked a number of questions in this letter, here are some answers: No, there are no palm trees on the ship (I’m sure you know that). My ship also has no hammocks, though some navy craft do. I sleep on a hard bunk in a small cabin which I share with Gabe (the cabin, not the bunk). I have the top bunk. I’m not sure how preferences work at your barracks, but on a ship, the bottom bunk is the favorable one. Lower risk of falling a long distance to the floor if the waves get choppy, you see. Gabe always claims the bottom bunk if he boards before I do. As for whether hammocks are comfortable accommodations, I could not say, from personal experience. The ship’s crew members use hammocks more often, while pilots have cabin privilege. As an officer, I get certain perks._

_As for being jealous of my good weather, you may cease that. Perhaps gloating about warm temps has come back to bite me in the ass. We have hit horrible storms for many days. (I think I may have mentioned that in my last letter.) It makes for very boring times for a pilot, as we only fly when absolutely necessary in this kind of weather. Lots of paperwork, reading reports, briefings and card games. Also, you should not stop being a doofus, as you say. It’s endearing. Please continue to be so._

_You also wrote to me about Sam and Jess’s wedding! I am pleased to hear that they have chosen a date! I will commit it to memory. My tour here will end in late March, then I will be on shore for a week, perhaps, before going back to sea. I presume that tour will last from April through to June, but I won’t know the specific dates until I receive my orders. Again, if I cannot attend the wedding, I will at least send a card or small gift to them. You should include your home address in your next letter._

_It is good to hear that you had a nice birthday. I’m sorry that my letter, most likely, did not get to you in time to wish you a happy birthday. It sounds as if Ash and Benny can be quite a handful when they get an idea in their heads. Was Tessa a good dancer? Are you a good dancer, for that matter? Hopefully you didn’t step on her toes. You asked if I got dragged to fancy society parties. The answer is: yes, many. Too many. Have you ever heard of a coming out party? Society girls have those, where they are presented to society boys, so that they may find a future husband. It’s an English tradition that upper crust American families carry on to be like them._

_Anna, I’m sure you can guess, hated hers. I believe she threw around questions like, “I am to be sold like cattle to the highest bidder?” I don’t know if there’s a man alive who could meet my dear sister’s standards, nor do I think she should lower them even a little. Anyway, I’ve been to parties like that, where I’ve had to dance with girls. Other society parties don’t really require dancing as much as tedious conversation, which is a dance in its own right. I did take dance lessons when I was a young man, but only for the time when I was forced to go to young women’s coming out parties. Then my father insisted I learn more useful things, such as business, politics and war strategy. Poor Anna was not so fortunate, until she was able to convince Father to send her to flying lessons._

_Anyway, I must be getting to sleep now, as it’s very late while I write this. I’ll write again soon, or perhaps wait for a reply from you before sending another. Maybe that will keep things a bit less confusing!_

_Yours truly,_

_Cas_

The letter was so long and friendly, so full of the same emotion that all of Cas’s other letters had, that Dean’s guilt only amplified. Now he imagined Cas waiting with everyone else as the mail shipment came in, only to find that he hadn’t gotten any letters from Dean. Sometimes, Dean felt like such an ass. Maybe he would go ahead and write his reply right now. Dinner could wait.

* * *

**_3 March, 1941_ **

_Cas,_

_Sorry for not replying sooner. I have no good excuse for why, so I won’t bother trying to find one. Let’s just get to the letter._

_It’s too bad you don’t have palm trees on the ship, though I bet they would get in the way of things. Even though you said the carriers are the biggest ships, probably hard to land a plane with trees in the way. As for bunks here on land, I guess getting top or bottom bunk is based on whatever the guy prefers. I’ve got a bottom bunk, Ash is above me, usually pretending he’s trying to ignore us, and Benny is next to me, also on a bottom bunk. I’m just dandy either way, don’t care which bunk I’m on. When I was a kid I always thought the top bunk was better. Do you ever steal bottom bunk if you board before Gabe? You should give it a try sometime._

_I guess it’s been a month really, since you wrote your last letter to me, but I hope the weather has gotten better for you. It’s almost spring here, so surely it’s warmed up wherever you are. Do carriers ever capsize in bad weather? I bet it’s kinda scary with all those planes sliding around. I guess there’s probably some way of locking them in place, though._

_Hey it’s March now (or probably will be when you get this), so I guess you’ll be back on land soon. I hope your next tour ends before the end of May. I know you said you go back in April. Do you get time off for Easter? That’s coming up soon, isn’t it? I should figure out when it is, huh? As for my home address, I’ll put it at the bottom of the letter for you. You really don’t have to send Sam and Jessica a gift. A card will be plenty if you can’t make it. But I’m sure they will be very pleased if you can. I’ll keep my fingers crossed!_

_Ash and Benny are definitely a handful, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Tessa was a good dancer. I’ve seen her at the dance hall a couple of times since my birthday and the boys insist I dance with her every time now. I’m not really a great dancer, but no, I did not step on her feet, thank you very much. If you can come to the wedding, maybe I can show you my moves. And no, I’ve never been to a coming out party. I think those are reserved for you fancy folks. I’m not surprised that Anna hated hers. Did I ever tell you about my friend Jo? I think she and Anna would get along._

_Hope this letter gets to you before you disembark your ship. I’ll wait for your reply before sending another, sorry it’ll be a long wait, but you’re right -- it will be less confusing that way._

_Yours truly,_

_Dean_

_P.S. I don’t know if I mentioned that I’m an ass. But I am. I’ll probably be an ass again sometime. Just so you know. Sorry about that._

* * *

**_12 March, 1941_ **

_Dean,_

_I’m not sure what all this business of you being an ass is about, but I presume it has something to do with how long it took to reply to my letter. Or does it have something to do with Tessa? I’m hoping it’s the former, because that is forgivable and does not make you an ass. I guess I’ll figure it out later._

_Back to more serious matters -- yes, it would probably be very difficult to land a plane with palm trees on the ship’s landing strip, which is incredibly small to begin with. Have I told you about how difficult that is? It’s kind of like trying to land on a runway the size of a playing card which is moving through the ocean, bobbing on the waves. The point is, you should be very impressed. Wait, no, the point is, it would be much harder with palm trees. Where did I get off track there? Let’s move on._

_I’ve never tried to take the bottom bunk from Gabe. He almost always gets on board before me, I don’t know how. He’s full of tricks, that one, we sometimes call him the trickster. The truth is, I don’t really mind the top bunk so much. I’ve never actually fallen out of bed. To answer your question of capsizing and sliding planes... I haven’t heard of a carrier capsizing due to bad weather. I doubt it would, as they are really too large for such a risk. Our greater danger of sinking would be an attack. They have methods for securing planes, though, to keep them from moving about, but the details are all boring._

_The weather has improved greatly since my last letter. Some men have taken to sunbathing in their off time. I might have a decent tan, myself, the next time you see me. It’s really rather unavoidable when we spend a lot of time on the flight deck, if one isn’t in his flight suit. On really hot days, we don’t always bother with shirts, unless the color of the shirt is integral to identification, like the LSOs._

_I will be back on land by the end of the month. I still haven’t got my orders yet for the next tour, but we will most likely be on land for Easter, which is April 13th this year, if you still haven’t figured it out by the time you get this letter. Will you be going home for Easter? I won’t be, I’ll probably just stay at Norfolk until I am deployed again. I bet your family has some very nice Easter traditions. Mine are as boring as any other holiday, and mostly involve the word “luncheon.” Do you like Jell-O? I feel I have seen Jell-O molded into far too many ridiculous shapes with bits of fruit and other things hovering inside it. Oh, and cucumber sandwiches, too many of those. Deviled eggs, however, I am quite fond of. Does your mother make deviled eggs? They’re probably good, if she does. I have an image in my head that your kitchen is a most welcoming place with good food and lots of love. My kitchen is not, except when Anna and I would sneak in there to steal a snack or make ourselves some hot chocolate._

_Speaking of Anna, yes, I believe you mentioned your friend Jo and that she would get along with my sister. We talked about her on Christmas, I think? Will she be at Sam and Jess’s wedding? Perhaps I will have a chance to meet her. And you will show me those dance moves you claim to have._

_Perhaps the next letter you send, in reply to this one, should just be addressed to me at Norfolk. We may get another shipment between now and docking, but there’s no guarantee. It can wait in the mailroom for me and I will write back then. Hopefully with an idea of my next orders and whether or not I can attend the wedding._

_Until then,_

_Cas_

* * *

**_23 March, 1941_ **

The remainder of Cas’s time on the ship was generally uneventful. Bal didn’t take anymore ridiculous side trips to acquire ladies’ hosiery. No one crashed any more planes during landing, and they all did a lot of writing reports on the new F4F-3s. The only thing of note was the changing of their squadron’s distinction, from VF-4 to VF-41. It all happened with very little pomp and circumstance and didn’t change anything in particular about how they did things. They were still the Red Rippers and no one got reassigned away from the squad.

Now they were back at port, all taking their orders for where to go and splitting up for shore leave. Some of the men stayed at the base in Norfolk, while others went home to spend time with their families. Cas chose to stay at Norfolk, with little interest in going home. Seeing Anna was nice, but he was more interested in time away from his parents and the trip to Chicago was a long one from Virginia. If he was going to take a long trip anywhere, Cas was more interested in Kansas or North Carolina, but it wasn’t that easy. So he started with a long list of errands, instead. He sorted out his housing, got his orders for the next tour and made a trip to the post office on base, to see if Dean had written to him. He would also have to see if any of the other test pilots for the F4F-3s had reports that he could read, but that would be another day. It was Sunday, and Cas didn’t plan to do any real work until at least Monday.

Cas was given a rather spacious room on base in a building for officers. Once inside, he dropped his dufflebag, stretched his arms and took in the massive space. By normal standards, it was probably not particularly large, but after a few months on ship, it was a great comfort. Not bothering to unpack right away, Cas instead checked his deployment orders. He skimmed for the most important information and smiled to read it.

Deploying 28 April 1941

Returning 23 May 1941

Ship: CV-4, _USS Ranger_

Neutrality Patrol, North Atlantic

Returning on the 23rd of May meant that he could be in Lawrence by the 31st for the wedding. It was a very short tour, which was incredibly lucky in this instance. It could mean the turn around for the next tour would be brief, but he would have time before departing to ask for leave when they got back to port. This was excellent news, so he shuffled through his little bit of mail to find the letter from Dean and read it immediately.

_Cas_

_How is being back on dry land? The weather here is excellent at the moment, not too cold anymore and not too hot yet either. If only it could stay like this all the time. I hear that California is that way. Guess that’s why all the movie stars live there. But they have earthquakes, so..._

_I laughed when I read about your description of landing a plane on a carrier. You can rest assured that I am always impressed with you for being a pilot, let alone a navy one. Just the idea of flying seems awful to me, I couldn’t do it. Never mind landing on a tiny, moving runway. I would find landing on a huge, open field intimidating. There’s all that ground to crash on! You should be laughing now. Are you laughing?_

_It’s good to know your ship is too big to capsize. You should avoid getting attacked, too, just for good measure. I don’t know much about naval warfare, but I think the getting attacked part is a major factor in sinking. So, you know, don’t do that. Keep up with that tanning thing you guys were doing in the last letter you sent me. That sounds much better than getting attacked. I’m looking forward to seeing just how tanned you claim to be. Are we talking about Errol Flynn on the poster for one of his pirate movies, here? I wish we could sunbathe here. But I don’t wish I was flying in between the sunbathing. Anyway..._

_So you’re on land now. Have you got your orders for your next deployment? What will you do until you leave again if you aren’t going home for Easter? Will Anna be mad at you for leaving her alone at all those luncheons? (Even writing that word makes me gag a little.) My family has kind of boring, normal family Easter traditions, which involve going to church and having a big dinner. It’s nothing too special, no fancy Jell-o molds. We do have deviled eggs, though, and I even know how to make them myself! I like them a lot, too. There really isn’t much food I don’t like, except some of the stuff they call food in the mess hall -- and salads are kind of boring. Our kitchen at home is a real friendly place. Our breakfast table is part of the kitchen, kind of, so we are in there a lot. It’s the best when my mom is baking cookies or pie._

_You’ll see what it’s like at the wedding if you make it out here. If not, you’ll just have to find some other time to visit. And yeah, Jo will be at the wedding. She and Jess work together at the bank. I don’t know if Jess plans to keep working after she’s married, but knowing her she probably will. Until they have kids, I guess. Holy smokes, Cas, I might be an uncle one of these days. Imagine that!_

_Let me know where I should send the next letter. Until then..._

_Yours truly,_

_Dean_

* * *

**_26 March, 1941_ **

_Dean,_

_I have great news! I have received my orders for my next tour and I should be back at port by May 23rd! Which means that, so long as my leave is approved, I should be able to come to the wedding. We were lucky that it’s such a short deployment. I’m leaving on the 28th of April, so it will only be about a month at sea. Which is probably for the best, because the climate won’t be so tropical this time. I will probably head straight to Lawrence once I get in. It would be a full week before the wedding, but there’s not much use in arranging housing here for just a few days, and this way I can take my time on the train to Kansas._

_Though it would be much faster to fly. Maybe I should acquire a plane and fly it to North Carolina, pick you up, then fly us to Kansas. That would be fun, would it not? You made flying sound so much like something you would like to try in your last letter. (Are you laughing yet?) I promise I won’t crash! Oh, and I’ll let you judge my similarity to Errol Flynn yourself. I won’t make any more claims on my tan than I already have. Also, with the less tropical climate next time I’m at sea, I may not get as much sun. So who can tell?_

_I don’t plan to do anything very exciting while I’m at the base for now. I won’t go home for Easter and yes, Anna will probably be cross. Maybe I can convince her to come down here instead. Well, I know I can convince her, it’s more a matter of convincing my mother to let her. Maybe if I say that I have a suitor in mind for her, Mother will agree. I look forward to meeting your mother, she sounds very nice. And I’m sure a home filled with the smell of baking apple pie is nice, as well._

_Are you excited at the prospect of becoming an uncle? Are you good with kids? I haven’t had too many occasions to meet children since I stopped being a child, myself. I don’t expect I will be an uncle any time soon, so perhaps I can share in your excitement. I suppose asking Sam and Jess whether they plan to have kids sooner or later would fall under the category of “rude questions” but do you have any idea if they are interested?_

_As of the time I’m writing this, I will see you in roughly nine weeks and a couple days._

_Yours,_

_Cas_

_P.S. You can keep sending letters to Norfolk until about mid-April._

As he read the letter, Dean couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. He would really see Cas in just a couple months. He looked forward to the wedding even more now. Training had become pretty boring and tedious. The only interesting thing that ever happened was when they learned to use a new weapon, which was just often enough that they didn’t become too lackadaisical. There was a whole war happening on the other side of the world and maybe one day it would reach him, too, but so much of their lives, even in infantry training, seemed so mundane. Cas was out there doing real stuff, even if it was test flights and neutrality patrol, even if he saw no action, he was at least doing something.

Dean could definitely see why Cas got bored of training young pilots. So in the meantime, when he wasn’t learning new weapons or battle tactics, Dean would look forward to at least seeing Cas again. Things between them also seemed better now. With more letters from Cas, he worried less about the pilot losing interest in him. This last letter was less careful, too, surely due to the lack of censors on the ship reading what he was writing.

He would write back to Cas soon. He would also have to write to Sam, letting him know that Cas was coming. There was no doubt that Sam would tease him about it, but he knew his dorky little brother would also be happy to hear it. His mother would be happy, too, even if she didn’t know the real relationship. The only concern, really, was his dad. Surely John would be pleased to meet a decorated pilot like Cas, but hiding their relationship would be the challenge. That was a problem Dean would deal with later, though.

* * *

**_13 April, 1941_ **

Time passed slowly but surely. While Cas stayed in Virginia, he managed to convince his mother to let Anna visit while she had a break from school. They spent time sightseeing and catching up on each other’s life. She was quite taken with the idea of Cas visiting Dean’s family for the wedding. Many jokes were made about him “meeting the parents.” Although he insisted that it wasn’t like that, she wouldn’t relent.

“When do I get to meet him?” she asked. “You know, since you can’t exactly get mother and father’s approval, you should at least get mine.”

“And how do you propose I arrange that?”

“I don’t know. You’re a clever man. Figure it out.” Anna shrugged elegantly, wearing a grin that said she knew very well that it wasn’t that easy.

“Maybe if I end up training in Chicago again and he comes to visit. Who knows when that could be?”

“Well, I don’t imagine you and I could both find excuses to surprise him in North Carolina.”

“Surprise? That sounds more like an ambush.”

She looked at him, aghast, and held a hand to her chest. “You don’t think he would be pleased to see you?”

“See me? Yes. Meet my annoying kid sister for the first time without warning?” Cas narrowed his eyes back at her. “I don’t think so.”

Anna sighed with dramatic resignation. “Very well then. You figure it out.”

Cas laughed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’ll get right on it.”

“I expect you will.” She grinned. They both knew that -- in all likelihood -- the two would never meet. The only way Cas saw it happening was if, many years down the road, when he and Dean left the service and they were still together, then maybe Dean and Anna would meet. The only other possible scenario he could imagine was the three of them being in Chicago at the same time. And, just as he said aloud, he had no idea when that might be.

While the United States still hadn’t technically entered the war, Cas truly believed it was only a matter of time at this point. America had occupied Greenland and his next tour in the North Atlantic proved that they were getting closer and closer to the war without actually getting into it. London had taken very serious bombing recently, Great Britain and the Allies were surely getting desperate for help. Balthazar was always a calm man, but Cas could tell he worried for his family and old friends overseas every time news reports came in of the bombings.

If they did go to war, Cas wasn’t really sure when he would even see Dean again. He certainly planned to make the most of his time spent with the infantryman in May, he just had to get through this next tour.

* * *

**_28 April, 1941_ **

_Dean,_

_By the time you receive this letter, I will probably already be back on the_ Ranger _. I am anxious about this trip. Not so much because it will be dangerous, though one never knows these things, but because I want time to pass quickly. It’s only about a month, but once I am back on land, I will be able to come visit Lawrence. I am looking forward to meeting all the people I’ve heard about, Sam, Jessica, your parents, and Jo. Besides which, it’s about time to have some fun. My time in Virginia wasn’t bad, but it was mostly boring. With the exception of seeing Anna at Easter. She says I need to arrange a way for her to meet you. Honestly, I think she decided she wanted to meet you the first time she saw your photograph. That was a fun day, when we visited the photobooth._

_How long has it been since we were last able to visit one another? It feels like ages. July of last year, I believe. Almost a year now, golly. I miss you._

_Well, this will have to be a short letter, I suppose. My mind is in too many places and I ship out soon. Wish me godspeed._

_Your dear friend,_

_Cas_

Dean had to squint a bit to read the line above Cas’s signature. It looked as if he wrote “yours” then scribbled out the “s” and added “dear friend.” Perhaps Cas was second guessing himself. Either way of signing things could have raised red flags, with the combination of the line, “I miss you.” Or, that’s what Dean guessed was going on. That was the first time Cas had written into a letter that he missed Dean. Every letter after this one would be read by censors on Cas’s ship, meaning every word after this one would be more carefully penned.

With a small sigh, Dean folded up the letter and tucked it away, somewhere safe from prying eyes. He missed Cas, too. The past year had been a long one, but hopefully the month between now and the wedding wouldn’t feel so long. Dean climbed into his bed and tucked an arm behind his head. He stared up at the bottom of Ash’s bunk, without really seeing it. Instead, he tried to conjure up the image of Castiel’s face. His small smile, his blue eyes, his dark hair, especially when it was messy. Dean liked when Cas’s hair was all messed up, first thing in the morning or just after sex. It suited the pilot.

Dean sighed and closed his eyes. He really missed Cas, too.

* * *

_**May, 1941** _

Everyone was a little more on edge during the tour of the North Atlantic than Cas had expected. It all came about when they first got news of an event that happened in early April. While the United States had not formally entered the war, they were still fairly clearly on the side of the Allies. The neutrality patrols that the crew of the _USS Ranger_ was doing were intended to keep Allied ships in that area safe from Axis attack. The Caribbean had been fairly uneventful while they were there, despite strategic locations like Cuba or Puerto Rico. However, this tour’s proximity to Greenland and Iceland proved more important now.

On April 10th, a Dutch cargo ship had been delivering supplies near Iceland when they were attacked and sunk by a German U-boat submarine. A Navy destroyer, the _USS Niblack_ , had sailed in to pick up the survivors when the U-boat prepared to attack again. The _Niblack_ managed to spot the oncoming attack before it happened and drove off the Germans with an attack of their own. It was significant event, because it was the first time during the course of the Second World War that the US had made a hostile attack against the Axis powers.

Now that the _Ranger_ was sailing near Greenland and Iceland, the crew and pilots were much more somber and on guard. There would be no more unplanned detours to Allied bases for stockings, no more fun experimenting with the planes. Eyes were peeled, looking for any signs of ships that weren’t supposed to be there. But no matter how closely they watched the skies or seas, none of the pilots could do anything about submarines.

As it turned out, nothing out of the ordinary happened during the course of the patrol. There were battles all across the Atlantic, involving Allied and Axis ships, generally south of where the _Ranger_ was patrolling. Cas and the others ate up any news they could get of what was happening, but were only privy to what the US Navy intelligence could access and provide to them. That, and of course, whatever was printed in the news. Stories of Luftwaffe bombings in Liverpool and Nottingham, RAF bombings of Hamburg and Berlin, convoys sunk at sea all across the Atlantic. It was hard to say who was winning at this point, and that was just news from Europe. The war had spread much further than that, across Asia, Africa, and the Middle East. Even Canada had joined the war, and had been part of it since 1939.

By the time Cas got back to port in Virginia, he felt unsure about the state of the war and was eager to know when America would finally join the cause. It was seeming more and more difficult to remain neutral at this stage. It was only a matter of time before US ships would be forced into action during one of their neutrality patrols and, while the situation with the _Niblack_ did not involve casualties on either their ship or, presumably, the U-boat, that wasn’t to say the next skirmish would be so clean.

Suffice it to say, the vacation to Lawrence was sounding very good right now. In port, Cas made a formal request for leave time for the duration of the wedding and travel time to Lawrence and back. Within two days, his request was approved, and he was given his next assignment: training. This time, however, he would not be training in Chicago. Instead, they were sending him to a naval base in Hawaii, just north of Honolulu. Cas had a vague understanding of the territory that was Hawaii. It was a series of islands in the South Pacific, pretty far off the coast of Mexico. There had been some sort of coup and overthrow of the royal family nearly twenty years ago and it changed from a Kingdom to a Republic, before the United States annexed it. The territory also had some strategic significance during the Great War. That, and the fact that Hawaii had a fairly pleasant, tropical climate was about all Cas knew.

At least this time Cas could gloat about his pleasant climate without being secretive about where he was going. Though the thought of returning to training was a drab one, after finally getting to go back to sea. Catching up with Gabe before heading to Lawrence, Cas discovered that the rest of the crew would be shipping out on the 31st, the same day as the wedding, but sailing on the _USS Yorktown_ , rather than the _Ranger_. While changing ships was not terribly uncommon for squadrons, Cas was thankful to at least avoid having to sail on an unfamiliar carrier.

After bidding farewell to his friends, and a healthy dose of banter between them, Cas purchased his train ticket and set off for Kansas. By the time he got there, Dean would already be home for the wedding, and every mile closer Cas got, the more excited he became. He felt like a schoolboy again, the night before a big sports game or school dance.

* * *

**_28 May, 1941_ **

The train ride to Lawrence from Norfolk was very long. Cas spent much of it reading, writing a letter to Anna, or staring out the window. On long trips like this, he often looked at the sky and wished he could be flying rather than riding. Commercial flights were not much of an option in the US, not like they were overseas. After the last war, there were a lot of spare planes going unused, which made it relatively easy for his father to acquire planes and teach Castiel and Anna how to fly them.

It seemed, though, that normal civilians just weren’t very interested in flying places to travel and only mail got where it was going by air. While Castiel was rather tempted to take a train to Illinois and borrow one of his father’s planes to fly to Lawrence, that would require more explaining than he was interested in providing. It would also, likely, look rude to flaunt a personal aircraft at a small town wedding. So it was, he bided his time, instead, waiting to reach his destination.

From the train station in Lawrence, Cas took a bus, as directed by Dean in one of his most recent letters. The bus took him through the town of Lawrence, which was a bit bigger than he had expected, based on what Dean told him about it. It certainly wasn’t a bustling city like Chicago or Washington, D.C., but it wasn’t quite the rural, small town he thought it was. It actually reminded him quite a bit of Pontiac, where Cas grew up.

As the approached the stop where Cas was meant to get off the bus, he spotted a man standing on the street corner, waiting. It was Dean. A smile spread over Cas’s face and he quickly stood, grabbing his bags and making his way off the bus. The first thing he noticed when he was close enough to see Dean properly, was the man’s bright smile. It was possible that Dean was more handsome in person than Cas had recalled.

“Cas! Hey buddy!” His voice was casual, but he opened his arms for a hug. Cas set his things down and immediately wrapped his arms around the slightly taller man.

“It’s good to see you,” Cas spoke against Dean’s ear. They held each other for as long as would go unnoticed. Men hugged often, especially in greeting after a long while apart. The fact that Cas was dressed in uniform surely helped, giving proof that he had most likely traveled from far away to be here.

Dean pulled back first, setting his hands on Cas’s shoulders and looking him over. “You look great, man. How was the trip?”

“Long,” Cas chuckled, bending down to pick up his bags again. “Is your home far?”

“Not too far, you okay walking?”

“I feel like I’ve been sitting for two days. Walking will be a welcome change.”

“Alright,” Dean chuckled and patted him on the back, offered to take one of the bags, then started them walking towards his home.

“How are Sam and Jess doing?”

“Jess has proven herself to be a good general. She is taking care of everything, giving orders and getting things done. Sam is nervous but he’s trying to keep it hidden. They’re both happy, though. Real happy.”

Cas smiled at that, “Good. Everyone deserves to be happy like that.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded in agreement.

By the time they were alone on the street, far from the bus stop, Cas covertly took Dean’s hand in his and gave it a quick squeeze. He looked up at the other man. “I... I missed you.”

Dean squeezed his hand in return and looked back at Cas. “Yeah.” They bumped shoulders and Dean smiled his warm, happy smile. Cas felt lighter than he had in months.

“I feel like I have so much to tell you,” Cas chuckled. “All the things I wasn’t allowed to say in the letters.”

“Like how snazzy your new planes are?”

“Yes!” Cas beamed a smile. “It is wonderful to not have biplanes anymore. Not that I get to go back to sea for a bit.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“The squad is shipping out on the 31st, so they’re leaving without me. I’m being sent back to training.”

“In Chicago?”

“Hawaii.” Cas smirked at Dean.

“No way!” Dean shook his head in apparent disbelief. “Well, you know, you’re going to have to tell me all about it. And I expect you’ll get a good tan. Speaking of which...” Dean stepped back a bit, dropping Cas’s hand and looking him over.

Cas laughed. “I was just in the North Atlantic, sailing between Canada and Iceland mostly. It was too cold there to tan. The time before that, my mysterious tropical climate was near Cuba in the Caribbean.”

“Ohh, not bad! Did you get to spend any time on land there?”

“No, just on the ship. Carriers have just about everything you need on them, including doctors, dentists, barbers. We even have a small shop or two with petty things like candy and cigarettes.”

“Wow. It must be huge.”

“It is. Carriers are unlike any other ship in an armada.”

“Not that I know a whole lot about ships, but it makes sense that they would be different. I guess submarines are the next most unique?”

“Yeah.” Cas nodded, then glanced around. Lowering his voice he said, “Speaking of submarines, I don’t know when it will be public knowledge, but in April, one of our destroyers fired at a German u-boat.”

Dean’s eyes went wide. “They did?”

Cas nodded solemnly. “It was a defensive strike. They were picking up men adrift after the u-boat sunk a Dutch cargo ship. The Germans were preparing to attack when we fired at them first.”

“Damn.” Dean shook his head. “Did you see any action the last time you were out?”

“No, not this time. Everyone was a little more on guard than usual, though.”

“I can imagine. I guess you won’t have any action like that while you’re training.”

Cas laughed, “No, I imagine it will be quite boring there.”

“Well, at least you get a fun reprieve now.” Dean turned off the sidewalk into a driveway. “We’re here.”

They went into the house and Dean took Cas’s bags and set them down in the front room, then led him to the kitchen. As he entered, Dean called out, “I’m back!”

Mary was standing at the counter, wearing a pretty floral dress, an apron tied around her waist and a towel resting over one shoulder. She turned around to look at them both with a bright smile on her face, and Cas knew immediately where Dean got his smile from. She brushed her hands on her apron and walked towards them.

“Come in! Come in! You must be Castiel,” she said.

Castiel knew what etiquette dictated but wasn’t sure how formal he was expected to be here. He erred on the side of caution. “Hello, Mrs. Winchester. Yes, I’m Castiel, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh, he’s very polite,” She said to Dean with a grin, then came closer to give him a hug. “And handsome, too. It’s nice to meet you, too, Castiel.”

The hug surprised him, in a pleasant way, and he returned it, laughing at her latter compliment. “Thank you.”

A moment later, a man appeared in the kitchen, having come in from another room. Castiel assumed that was John. He turned to face the man.

“Mr. Winchester?” He stepped forward and held out his hand to shake. “Castiel Novak.”

“That’s me. I see you’re a Navy guy,” John said, extending his hand to shake as well. He had a strong, firm grip.

“I am, sir. A fighter pilot with the US Navy.” Cas noticed John glance at the ranking insignia on his uniform. “Dean mentioned that you are a marine?”

“I was,” John nodded. “Corporal, Second Battalion, First Marines.”

“Thank you for your services, sir.” Cas said respectfully.

John smiled, which was a good sign. “Well, now its your boys’ turn to serve and protect.”

“We will certainly do our best, sir.”

“Oh, enough war talk now,” Mary waved John off. “You can pick his brain later. I want to get to know you, Castiel.”

Dean laughed, “Mom’s always trying to keep war talk out of the kitchen.”

“I see,” Cas nodded, wondering if trying to balance John’s questions against Mary’s wishes would be a challenge. “Please, ask what you want to know. And you’re all welcome to call me Cas.”

“Shouldn’t we maybe let him take his stuff upstairs and get settled in first?” Dean asked.

“Oh, you’re right. Have you eaten, Cas? I can cook something up for you.” Mary offered.

“I’m fine, I can wait until supper to eat. It’s really kind of you to let me stay here. I don’t mind finding a hotel.”

“Nonsense!” Mary chided. “It’s no trouble at all.”

“We set up a cot in my room for you.” Dean explained and Cas nodded.

“I hope that’s alright. We don’t have any extra beds, but we’ve set it up with clean linens.” Mary explained.

Cas chuckled, “A cot will be just fine, Mrs. Winchester. Anything is a step up from the metal slabs they call beds on my ship.”

“You poor dear. Well, if you need anything at all, just ask me or Dean.”

“I will, thank you, Mrs. Winchester.” Cas smiled politely, then Dean dragged him out of the kitchen to get his bags and take him upstairs. They didn’t exactly rush, but Cas could tell that Dean wasn’t wasting any time now that introductions were over.

Once they got to the bedroom, Dean set the bags down, closed the door and turned to Cas. “Hey...”

Cas smiled, “Hello.”

What happened next was slower than Cas had expected. Dean lifted a hand to cup his cheek, and Cas tipped his head toward it. His eyes traveled over Cas’s face as Cas’s gaze fell on Dean’s lips. They leaned into each other and kissed. Nearly a year apart and they were finally together again. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean, pulling the other man in close, reveling in the way their bodies fit against each other. Neither of them wanted to pull away. Dean’s hand made its way up into Cas’s hair, fingers threading through dark locks. Cas sighed into the kiss and relaxed.

Minutes could have passed during that kiss for all Cas noticed. When they reluctantly pulled apart and blinked their eyes open to gaze at each other again, both men were smiling.

“I missed you, too, Cas.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments below! :D I love hearing from you guys and you keep me going when writer's block gets in the way. Thanks for reading. You rock! <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for sticking with this story. I know it's been a looong time since I updated and I hope to get back into the swing of regular updates. A lot of things have changed in my life over the last year or so and it kind of threw off my writing. I'm sorry you've all had to wait, but I can't tell you how much I appreciate those of you who've stuck with me. Thank you so very much!

_**28 May, 1941** _

Cas first met Sam and Jess the evening he arrived in Lawrence. They had spent most of the day out and about, finalizing things for the wedding and didn’t return to the Winchesters’ house until just before supper. When they walked in, Cas was sitting in the front room with Dean. Both men stood upon seeing the couple and Sam glanced back and forth between Dean and Cas with a broad smile on his face.

“Jess, Sammy, I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Cas.” Dean gestured to Cas as the pair of them neared.

Sam shook Cas’s hand, holding it between both of his own. He was a giant of a man, bigger than Dean, which was surprising, considering he was the younger brother. “Cas, it’s so nice to finally meet you! Dean’s told me so much about you.”

“All good, I hope.” Cas smiled.

“Yeah, definitely,” Sam laughed, releasing Cas’s hand and wrapping an arm around Jess’s shoulders. “This is my beautiful fiancee, Jessica.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Jessica. I’m happy to hear about your engagement.” Cas, as a rule of etiquette, didn’t shake a woman’s hand unless she reached out first. In some cases, he might even kiss a woman’s hand in greeting, but that seemed too formal here. “I really appreciate you allowing me to attend the wedding.”

“Thank you,” Jessica said. She was a beautiful young woman, with long blond hair and a kind face. She even reminded Cas a little of Mary. “And of course! We wanted you to come. I’m so glad you were able to make it.”

“It was a lucky break that my last tour was so brief.”

“Oh, yes! Dean’s told us you’re a pilot. That must be exciting.”

“It is, rather.” Cas chuckled. “Though I don’t think Dean shares the sentiment.”

“Look, flying is all well and good, so long as I don’t have to be the guy in the air.” Dean shook his head.

Sam laughed at his brother’s expense. “Hey, you might have to change your tune, Dean. I bet we’ll all be flying around in planes to get from place to place, sooner than you think.”

“Yes, actually, I imagine so,” Cas agreed. “They already do in parts of Europe.”

“That’s just fine and dandy for them. I’d rather drive a car.” Dean was steadfast.

Jess giggled at the exchange. “Well, I’m sure that both planes and cars will make great advances. To each his own.”

“Indeed,” Cas nodded.

Just then, Mary joined them, “I thought I heard you two come in! Supper’s nearly ready.” She gave Sam and Jess each a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll come help you with that, Mrs. Winchester.” Jess offered, following her into the kitchen as Mary chided, saying she should be calling her mom soon. Sam watched Jess go like a lovesick puppy.

He sighed and turned back to Cas and Dean. “It really is great to meet you, Cas. And don’t worry, I plan to get in as many embarrassing stories about Dean as I can before you leave.”

Cas chuckled and Dean glared. “Hey! Just remember, Sammy, I’m giving a speech at your wedding. I still have time to work some embarrassing stories into it if I need to.”

Sam laughed as well, holding up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll just tell him when you’re not around and swear him to secrecy.”

“Don’t you have anything you need to be doing right now, like staring at Jess?”

“Yeah, okay.” Sam walked away, still grinning at Dean’s expense.

“Little brothers, man.”

“I’m sure my little sister would do the same to me,” Cas offered, patting Dean on the back. “And you would find it amusing as well.”

“Not the point.” Dean said, but smiled all the same.

 

Dinner that night was a casual affair. After some talk of the wedding preparations and an update on the schedule for the next few days, Mary and John both took interest in learning more about Castiel. John’s interest was mostly military related while Mary just wanted to know about his life and interests.

“So, Cas, tell us about yourself,” Mary started.

Castiel politely set down his fork and knife and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Oh, well, I grew up outside Chicago with my mother, father and younger sister, Anna. I sort of joke that I’ve been training to be a pilot my whole life. My father was in the Navy and he took great interest in aviation. He insisted that I -- and my sister -- learned to fly, so we did.”

“Your sister can fly, too?” Jess asked, interested in this fact.

“That’s very forward-thinking of him,” Mary agreed.

“She can, yes,” Cas nodded to both Jessica and Mary. “We were very fortunate to have the opportunity. And I believe my sister may have had fits if she couldn’t learn to fly, as well.”

“Yeah, you know Jo?” Dean chimed in. The others around the table nodded, all familiar with his friend. “I think his sister and Jo would probably get along.”

Jess laughed at that, knowing Jo the best of all of them. “I think you’re right, Dean. Your sister, Anna was it? She must be quite an interesting young woman.”

“That would be an understatement, yes.” Cas smiled.

“So you joined the Navy to follow in your father’s footsteps?” John asked, changing the subject back to the armed forces.

“Yes, it was pretty much always the plan for me.”

“Do you like it?” Mary asked, sounding genuinely curious.

“I do. I wouldn’t change it, given the option. Though, when you’re a pilot, a good one, anyway, you sometimes spend more of your time training young pilots than out at sea. I might change that part.” He grinned.

“They don’t want the good pilots out fighting?” John raised a brow at that.

“Typically, it’s considered a compliment to be asked to train, because they want the new pilots to learn from the best.”

“You must be very good, then,” John offered.

“In the interest of modesty, I will say I’m not bad,” Cas said with a smile, and everyone chuckled. “But I was afforded the great opportunity to learn to fly from a younger age than most others in my ranks.”

“Fair enough.” John gave a lopsided grin at that. “What’s your rank? You’re an officer, I noticed.”

“Yes, a Lieutenant. It’s roughly the Naval equivalent to an Army Captain. All pilots in the Navy are officers. And, well, we don’t use the rank of Captain in the same way as the Army to avoid confusion with the ship’s Captain, who ranks significantly higher.”

John nodded to this. “Have you seen any action out there yet?”

“Not really, sir. Not yet. For the most part, I’ve just been on neutrality patrols. I suspect I won’t see any action unless we actively join the war. Or someone attacks Allied ships near wherever I’m patrolling,” Cas shrugged. “And our planes -- I’m a fighter pilot -- we only fight other planes. The attack pilots would fire at enemy ships.”

“You have orders to attack enemies, though?”

“John, please,” Mary chided. “Must we talk of war at the dinner table?”

Cas glanced between Mary and John, unsure of how to proceed. He shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “My only orders are to aid Allied ships in need if they are in neutral or Allied waters. If defending becomes necessary, then we would do that. But no outright attacks.”

Mary gave a stern look to Cas for answering and he shrank back, picking up his fork and taking another bite of his food. “The supper tastes excellent, Mrs. Winchester.”

“Thank you, Castiel.”

He decided to steer clear of anything that could be considered talk of war. Cas turned to Sam. “I understand you are attending law school, Sam?”

“Yes,” Sam said after a drink of water. “I just started last year. It’s been great so far.”

“He’s going to be the best lawyer,” Jess said proudly, touching his arm.

“What field of law are you interested in?” Cas enquired.

“Oh, I’m not really sure just yet, but I like the idea of defending people who can’t defend themselves. If someone has something bad happen to them, I want to help them make it right again.”

“That’s a very noble pursuit.” Cas smiled. “You might look into the American Civil Liberties Union, which fights to defend people’s rights. Initially, their main focus was on the rights of free speech, but they’ve since expanded that in the last decade or so. Now they help defend labor unions rights to meet and strike, they’ve defended Indians’ right to their lands and traditions, and they work with the NAACP for the rights of colored people. Granted, they mostly defer to the NAACP right now, but they support the Association.”

Sam leaned in as he listened to all Cas had to say, “Oh yeah? That sounds right up my alley. Thanks, Cas. I’ll definitely look into that.”

Conversation then turned to more mundane topics, the weather, what everyone did that day, Cas’s ride on the train and other such things. As dinner ended, Jessica and Mary began clearing the table.

“Would you like help with that?” Cas offered, standing as soon as the women stood.

“Oh, that’s very kind of you, Cas, but you’re our guest.” Mary shook her head.

“It’s no bother.” He gathered up dishes and helped carry them to the kitchen sink, where Mary eventually shooed him off. Insisting that he not help wash up, but thanking him for offering all the same.

When Cas gave up, Dean was there, grinning at him. Cas tipped his head curiously and opened his mouth to ask what Dean was grinning at, but Dean held up a hand to wave it off. He murmured a quiet, “Later.”

The family eventually retired to the sitting room where they listened to the radio for a little while, hearing the day’s news. Most of the news involved the war in some way. After the news concluded, there was a radio play. During a commercial break halfway through, Jessica announced that she should head home. The play wasn’t particularly good that night and everyone had already surmised how it would end. Sam stood as well, and offered to walk her home.

As they were leaving, Cas began yawning.

“Been a long day for you, huh?” Dean said, catching the yawn.

“Yes, it has...” He nodded. “One wouldn’t think riding a train could be so tiring. However, with the change of the time zones... My body still thinks it’s an hour later than it is.”

“I have that problem every time I come home, too.”

“Well, you boys go on up to bed then,” Mary said. “You don’t need to stay with us. I know you’ll probably be up half the night talking, anyway.”

Dean chuckled and shook his head. “You make us sound like a couple of gossipping girls.”

“All military men gossip. It’s just usually about base food and commanding officers instead of boys and clothes.” Mary grinned at him and stood up. “Come give me a kiss and go on up.”

“Night, Mom.” Dean moved to kiss his mother.

“You caught us,” Cas said with a laugh. “Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Winchester. It was delicious.”

“You’re welcome anytime, Cas. Goodnight, dears.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Winchester.”

“Night, Dad.”

“Goodnight, boys. Don’t stay up too late.” John half waved at them and Dean and Cas made their exit, Dean leading the way and Cas close behind.

Once they were out of John and Mary’s sight, Cas took Dean’s hand and squeezed it. Dean squeezed back and grinned over his shoulder at Cas. They were in his bedroom moments later, closing the door and locking it behind them.

“What were you grinning at?” Cas asked as Dean pushed him back against the door.

“When?” He kissed across Cas’s cheek.

“After dinner.”

“Oh,” Dean stopped and laughed. “You’re too polite, man. Offering to help all the time.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Cas smiled, showing he wasn’t sorry at all. “Am I making you look bad?”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m afraid I can’t help it.”

“Yeah,” Dean chuckled and kissed Cas’s cheek again. “I know you can’t help looking good.”

“Are we still speaking of the same thing?” Cas slid his hands around Dean’s waist, letting one travel up his back.

“Not at all.” Then Dean stole Cas’s lips in a solid kiss, one he had been saving since they went downstairs for dinner. This time the kiss went much further than their earlier ones.

Dean’s hands made short work of Cas’s uniform jacket, unfastening the buttons and slipping the jacket off his shoulders. It fell to the floor, forgotten, as Cas stepped forward, bringing them further into the room. He then started working off Dean’s clothes. He missed this, missed Dean, missed the other man’s body and his touch. So many lonely nights apart, craving each other’s affection, and unable to even say how much they longed for each other.

“I missed you,” Cas whispered into Dean’s mouth.

“God, Cas...” Dean breathed back and one hand made its way into Cas’s hair, uncaring of how he messed it up now. Fingers combed through dark locks and held Cas still. Then he tipped his head and pressed a hard, deep kiss to Cas’s mouth. They froze in place and clung to each other. Breathing each other in, holding one another as if this time, they couldn’t be separated ever again.

When they pulled back from the kiss, breathless and desperate, Cas’s eyes met Dean’s and they never looked more earnest and deep. It was then, right then, that Cas knew this was love. This was more than just lust or simple attraction. This wasn’t just a schoolboy crush. He loved Dean. And he never felt it more than looking into the man’s eyes now. Rather than say the words, though, which held such weight, he instead touched his fingers to Dean’s face, tracing his fine features, and smiled.

Dean crooked a grin at him, cheeky and charismatic. “Enjoying the view?” he whispered.

Cas laughed silently. “Yes. Always. I don’t want to forget this.”

“Shucks, Cas...” Dean looked down, bashful in moments like these, despite all his bravado in less intimate situations.

Not wanting to miss the opportunity, Cas leaned in and kissed Dean, soft and tender. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas once more, holding him tight again. There was something wonderful about that hug, the way Dean rested his weight on Cas, letting the pilot support him. It was vulnerable and trusting. Cas wouldn’t give up that feeling for anything.

They finally made their way to bed and stopped at the edge of it. Dean had a full size bed in his small room. The cot was slim and low to the ground, placed just on the other side of the bed from the door; it would likely go unused for Cas’s entire stay. While the bed might be a tight fit, there was no way they would miss the opportunity to sleep together. Yet, they paused now, despite their apparent need for each other.

“We have to be quiet,” Dean whispered.

“Thin walls, I imagine?” Cas said, kissing a path to Dean’s ear.

“Yeah... I don’t know... how much...” He floundered, either having difficulty talking about this, or simply distracted by Cas’s lips.

“Anything is better than nothing.” Cas nibbled on Dean’s ear and heard the man gasp softly. “Even just to sleep beside you.”

“Well, let’s see if we can manage more than that...” Dean pulled back a little to look at Cas. “Now I think I need to check on this Errol Flynn tan of yours.”

As Cas laughed, Dean began taking off his shirt, exposing the skin below. He shrugged out of his shirtsleeves and pulled off the undershirt beneath it. Dean ran a hand slowly down over his chest, studying Cas as if he was a piece of art.

“Your evaluation, sir?”

“Maybe not quite as tan as Mr. Flynn, but probably sexier.”

Cas rolled his eyes and gave Dean a playful shove.

“Oh, you think I’m kidding?” he asked, flashing a grin even as he rocked back from that shove.

“Sexier than Errol Flynn? Yes, I do.”

“I’m not,” Dean said and snagged Cas around the waist, pulling him in for yet another kiss.

Cas could live like this every day and never tire of it. He returned the kiss, barely containing the broad smile that Dean had set upon his lips.

They eventually managed to get all their clothes off and climb into bed beneath the covers. Despite their hunger for each other, caution slowed their progress. Hands trailed and teased over any skin within reach. Kisses were traded, from lips to neck, from shoulders to chest. Fingers combed through hair, legs twined together. Their bodies fit so perfectly together, it seemed as if they were meant to be with one another.

Before Cas even realized what was happening, they were just laying in each other’s arms, foreheads pressed together, eyelids heavy as they held each other’s gaze.

So many thoughts went through Cas’s head then. Some were simple, as he studied how beautiful Dean looked, how green his eyes were, the way he had a light smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose, those high cheekbones... Then he thought about the way Dean made him smile, the way he was good with his hands and how passionately he did everything. Other thoughts were deeper, about his revelation of loving this man, this young man, who lay before him. He wondered what Dean was thinking, but wasn’t sure he dared to ask.

“You’re a good man, Dean.” Those were the words that Cas found himself saying, nearly without his permission.

Dean laughed a little. “Not always.”

“When it matters, I believe you would do what’s right.”

“Where’s this coming from?” He nudged his nose against Cas’s.

“I don’t know. Too many thoughts in my head.”

“You should try not to think sometimes. Being dumb makes it easier.” He winked.

“You’re not dumb.” Cas furrowed his brows.

“Eh, I might be a wise ass, but Sammy got all the smart genes.”

“I don’t believe that. Sam is certainly very bright. He got into law school, but you’re no fool, Dean.”

“C’mon, Cas...” Dean closed his eyes and tipped his head down, as if to hide. “I think you were on that train for too long.”

Cas pressed a kiss to Dean’s forehead, “You cannot change my mind on this subject, though you might try.”

“Yeah, well... same to you, bub.”

With a laugh at that comment, Cas let the subject drop, especially because Dean peeked one eye open and smiled when he laughed. Then Dean hugged his arms a little tighter around Cas, pulling him in. They were already all wound up in each other, but being a little bit closer was nice, all the same.

“I’m glad you’re here...” Dean admitted, whispering into Cas’s collarbone.

“Me too, Dean.” They fell silent and closed their eyes, eventually drifting off to sleep to the gentle sound of each other’s even breathing. This is what peace felt like, Cas decided before his mind fell to unconscious sleep.

 

* * *

 

_**29 May, 1941** _

It was Thursday, just two days until the wedding and everything felt a little bit like the calm before the storm. Dean and Cas slept in that morning and were very lazy about getting out of bed. More aptly, they had trouble getting out of each other’s arms. Languid kisses were exchanged for long moments before the sound of Sam knocking on the door, urging them to get ready for breakfast, waylaid their plans for more. After a light breakfast of eggs and toast, everyone announced having plans for the day. Mary was meeting up with Jess and her mother, while John and Sam both had their own business to attend to in town.

Dean mentioned wanting to give Cas time to just relax as an excuse for them staying home during the day. This meant they would have the house to themselves for a good length of time. A little before lunch time, after everyone had been gone for about twenty minutes, Dean flashed a grin at Cas, grabbed his hand, and dragged him upstairs to the bedroom.

As soon as they were through the door, Dean had hooked an arm around Cas’s shoulders, pulling him in close for a desperate kind of kiss. The fact that they hadn’t done more than kiss the night before was something of a small miracle, which Dean blamed on the fact that Cas was tired from a long day of traveling. Now, though, they were both wide awake. They kissed hard and desperate as Dean led them both over to the bed. Cas pushed Dean’s suspenders off his shoulders and began unfastening his pants. Dean made short work of Cas’s shirt, only breaking the kiss to pull it from over his head.

Both men removed the last of the clothing, all but their boxers, before climbing into the bed. Cas stretched out on his back and Dean straddled his waist. He ran his hands over that nicely tanned and muscular chest.

“Damn, Cas...” Dean breathed out, barely above a whisper, despite not needing to be quiet. He circled a thumb over one of Cas’s nipples.

Cas looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, a small grin on his lips. “We’ve waited so long for this...” He bucked his hips up slightly.

Dean hummed and rocked his own hips in response. “Too long.”

“Let’s make it last.” He said, sliding hands slowly up Dean’s thighs, tracing thumbs along the inner part.

“Yeah...” Dean agreed, because he would pretty much agree to anything Cas said right now. He gasped quietly as one of Cas’s hands began stroking over the length of his dick, through the fabric of his boxers. Dean kept rocking his own hips as his method of bringing Cas to full hardness.

It wouldn’t take much effort for them both to be hard, but the slow and steady method felt amazing to Dean. They both had their eyes closed, following the rhythm of their bodies’ movements, mouths open and panting softly. Everything about Cas felt good, not just because he was an incredibly hot man, but because he was Cas. It would be easy to have a purely physical relationship with a man this good looking, but his personality, his mind and everything he did made Dean want more. He had never wanted more than the physical stuff with anyone the way he wanted it with Cas.

“Oh god,” Dean said suddenly, drawn out of his thoughts when Cas’s hand wrapped around his bare, hard cock. He had pulled the boxers aside and gone for more. “Cas...”

He twisted his hand expertly around the shaft, stroking up and down in the perfect way. The rhythm of Dean’s rocking hips soon began matching the strokes of Cas’s hand. Dean could feel the hard length of Cas against his ass, and it felt good.

“Don’t come yet...” Cas murmured in a gravel voice.

Dean whimpered, though he would never admit to making such a sound. “Not making it easy.”

The pace of Cas’s hand slowed to long strokes, gripping the base of his cock for a second each time. “Hold on.” After Dean’s breathing slowed down and his hips stopped rocking, Cas released his cock. “Take these off...” He said, giving a tug to the boxers.

Lifting himself off Cas, Dean made short work of the last article of clothing. Cas did the same with his own, then leaned over the edge of the bed to dig around in his bag. Dean sat up on his knees watching Cas and enjoying the view of his toned back muscles and arms. When he found what he was looking for, Cas laid back down and Dean reclaimed his spot, straddling Cas.

The dark haired pilot opened the bottle of lubricant and squeezed an ample amount onto his fingers before setting it aside. “Come here...”

Dean moved forward until Cas could reach between his legs and begin the slow process of stretching him out, one finger at a time. It had been so long since they were together and the shared spaces at the barracks didn’t allow any time for self-loving. Cas had to take his time; it was agonizingly slow, but worth it. Dean let his head tip back as he lifted and lowered himself onto Cas’s fingers. It would feel even better when he got more than fingers inside of him.

Finally the moment came when Cas deemed Dean ready for more. He stroked some lubricant onto his own shaft, then positioned himself beneath Dean. “Alright...”

Slow and sure, Dean sank down onto Cas, letting the other man fill him bit by bit. It took a few passes, going deeper each time until Cas was buried to the hilt. Both of them let out a sigh mixed with a groan and Dean finally opened his eyes. He looked down at Cas beneath him and liked what he saw.

The other man was breathing deeply, hands clenched on Dean’s thigh and hip. His mouth was open, and blue eyes were half closed as he looked back at Dean with lust.

“I missed you...” Cas breathed, then stroked his hand up and down Dean’s thigh.

A cocky grin touched Dean’s lips and he rolled his hips carefully. Cas gasped, tipping his head back and closing his eyes completely.

“Fuck...”

“Oh, dirty words.” Dean teased.

Cas huffed a laugh. “They don’t say that one ‘cusses like a sailor’ for no reason.”

Dean let out a warm laugh. Even now, Cas could make him laugh. He rarely even talked during sex before he met Cas, never mind acting silly. “Let’s see what other words you know...”

He leaned back slightly, bracing one hand on Cas’s leg and lifted himself up, then lowered down again. He found a steady rhythm, watching Cas’s face as he took the man into himself over and over.

Cas groaned out Dean’s name, arching his back. His face was awash with pleasure, jaw slack, eyes closed. Occasional hums and moans accompanied gasps and the whispered ‘fuck’ now and then. He was especially vocal when Dean circled his hips as he lowered himself down again. Dean watched Cas for a good while before getting lost in the pleasure, himself. Cas’s breathing quickened and his grip got tighter on Dean’s hips.

They both began grunting and groaning more as the pace of their coupling sped up. As Dean came down on Cas’s shaft, Cas pushed his hips upwards to meet him, then took over control. He pushed himself up on one elbow and wrapped his free hand Dean’s shaft. Pumping his hand up and down, he drove Dean on towards completion.

“Now I want you...” Cas gasped out. “Now I want you to come for me.”

“Oh shit...” Dean gasped as well. He couldn’t handle it all anymore, the combined pleasure plus that command in Cas’s deep voice. Dean’s muscles clenched and he stilled for a moment, groaned and came as Cas stroked him. The pilot milked him for all he was worth and he came hard, for a long time. After Dean caught his breath again, still riding waves of pleasure, he looked into Cas’s face. “Now you...”

Intense blue eyes met his and Cas sat up, kissing Dean hard. Dean easily gave himself over to that kiss as Cas wrapped an arm around his waist. He began thrusting again, harder and faster this time until the kiss finally had to break. Cas pressed his face into the crook of Dean’s shoulder and groaned loudly as he finally came inside Dean a moment later.

Dean stroked a hand over Cas’s back as he rode his own climax out. They were both sweaty and out of breath when they finally laid back down. Dean carefully lifted himself up, off of Cas and settled back down at his side. His legs felt weak and wobbly and his arms heavy, but Dean felt better than he had in years.

“That was great.” Dean kissed Cas’s shoulder.

The other man chuckled quietly and slung an arm over Dean as he rolled onto his side. He placed a few kisses to Dean’s chest, then nuzzled into his shoulder. “Yes, it was.”

“Shame we can’t do it all the time.”

“You sure you don’t want to learn to fly and join the Navy?” Cas offered.

“I don’t think even the promise of amazing sex can quite overcome my aversion to the idea of flight.”

“I’ll have to try harder next time.”

Dean laughed and hugged Cas. “You do that.”

“I will.”

They laid there for ten minutes before finally deciding it was necessary to get themselves cleaned up. They took turns bathing and then got dressed. Dean changed the sheets on the bed, then they made their way downstairs to eat some lunch, listen to music and await the return of the others. Their days together, leading up to the wedding would be spent in much the same way. They made the most of what time they had alone in the house and the rest of the time was spent visiting with family or activities surrounding the wedding. They did occasionally go into town, but there wasn’t much to do except visit shops. Neither man was particularly interested in shopping, with the one exception of buying records.

 

* * *

 

_**31 May, 1941** _

The day of the wedding finally arrived and everything was a bit chaotic. Cas had attended weddings before and generally knew what to expect, but this was the first time he had been so close to the wedding party. Normally, he was just a guest. As far as he could tell, the women ran the entire event, telling everyone where to take things, how to set everything up, or where to be. Cas did his best to make himself useful or stay out of the way. Dean spent a great deal of his time with Sam, making sure tuxedos were ready and that the ring didn’t get lost. He also made sure that Sam didn’t become too nervous while everything was prepared.

When he didn’t have a particular task to do, Cas felt a little bit like an outsider intruding on a personal moment. Although, every once in awhile, Dean would pass him by and -- if no one was watching -- squeeze his hand or give him a peck on the cheek. And perhaps Cas was imagining it, but he could swear that sometimes he caught a look of relief in Dean’s eyes whenever he looked Cas’s way. It was as if Cas was his port in the storm. It was in those moments that he felt almost like he belonged, like he could maybe, one day, be part of this family as well.

Those were dangerous thoughts, though, sprouted from his traitorous heart and watered by the romance of a wedding. He may love Dean, truly, but what could their future together be? Those questions were too heavy to consider at a time like this. So, instead, Cas would put everything out of his mind and focus on simply helping Dean make this the best wedding for Sam and Jess that they could. That was just what they did, too.

In the end, everything went off without a hitch. Everyone arrived on time and once they all found their seats, Sam made his way up to the altar, Dean beside him as his Best Man. Dean and Cas were, of course, dressed to the nines in their full military dress uniforms and Cas had noticed several of the older women had complimented Dean on how nice he looked in his. Cas couldn’t help but agree with them and told Dean as much before the ceremony was to start. Dean made sure to mention that he caught a few ladies, young and old, looking twice at Cas.

Cas took his seat on the groom’s side of the venue and watched as Sam stood nervously waiting for the ceremony to begin. Dean stood beside him and Cas could see his mouth moving occasionally; he wondered what words Dean might be saying to calm his brother down. Finally the music changed and a young girl in a pretty white dress made her way down the aisle, dropping silk rose petals of pink, white and red along the carpet as she did so. She laid a few out up at the altar, then took her seat on the bride’s side. Next came a woman in a nice dress that Cas had not met, but was informed was one of Jessica’s cousins and her Maid of Honor. Once she took her place, everyone turned to look at the back of the room when Jessica walked out, arm in arm with her father.

Her dress was beautiful, but it was nothing compared to the smile on her face. She looked straight ahead, eyes surely meeting Sam’s. As everyone watched her, Cas turned to look over at Sam and all of the nerves the man showed a moment ago were gone as he once again wore that love-struck gaze he always seemed to have for Jess.

She made her way down the aisle, where her father then kissed her cheek and passed her hand over to Sam, who took it in both of his own. Forgetting himself for a moment, Sam lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the backs of her fingers. Jess giggled and many in the wedding guests sighed an aww. The ceremony was lovely, albeit brief, as compared to the more extravagant ones Cas has been to in the past. The priest spoke of the meaning of marriage and the importance of the union, he read a passage from the Bible and told a few personal details about both Sam and Jess.

The vows the couple exchanged were simple and standard, though the way they were exchanged was anything but that. At least, as far as Cas was concerned. He was used to hearing brides and grooms speak their vows in much the same way that someone might swear an oath of honesty in court. When both Sam and Jessica spoke their vows to one another, there was such truth and meaning behind each of the words. They met each other's eyes and held each other’s gaze. At one point, Sam had to clear his throat past the emotion in order to speak, and Jess’s eyes remained damp throughout most of the ceremony.

There was no doubt that these two loved one another and truly intended to spend the rest of their lives together. This was a marriage of nothing but love and watching it filled Cas’s heart with joy, despite just meeting Sam and Jessica for the first time only days ago. He couldn’t begin to imagine how Dean must feel, nor the parents of either the bride or groom. But Cas tried to think of how happy he would be for his own sister if she were to marry someone that she truly loved, and he thought that must be a most-wonderful thing.

After the vows were exchanged, Dean handed Sam the ring and he placed it on Jessica’s finger. Her hand trembled slightly and she laughed and then they were told to kiss. Sam brought both his hands up to hold Jess’s face, then kissed her sweetly. They smiled together, then turned to face their guests. Everyone clapped and a few cheered as the pianist began playing music and the newly wed couple made their way back up the aisle. Dean and Jessica’s cousin came together and followed them out. As he walked past, Dean smiled at the people he knew on the groom’s side. When he caught sight of Cas, he winked, smiled broadly, and then looked forward as he walked out.

Despite himself, Cas felt butterflies turning cartwheels in his stomach in response to that combination of wink and smile.

Everyone ambled on outside of the church and made their way to a nearby reception hall. Cas found Dean outside but couldn’t talk to him, as he was surrounded by friends and relatives, answering questions and receiving compliments about what a great ceremony it was. When everyone left, Dean found Cas and they walked to the hall together. Thinking it was the only time they would have somewhat to themselves, Cas took advantage of it.

“That went very well,” he said.

“It really did.” Dean nodded. “They’re gonna be great together.”

“I believe it. They seem to truly be in love.” Cas smiled.

“Oh, they are. Definitely. I’m pretty sure that Sammy never did stop falling in love with her once he started. He looks at her the same way now as he did when before he asked her out.”

“That must be a wonderful feeling.”

“Yeah.” Dean glanced over at Cas and smiled. “I think it is.”

Those butterflies started their fluttering all over again. Cas wondered if Dean’s stomach ever did flips and turns in these moments or if he just caused them. “I think so, too.”

They arrived at the hall and were swept up into a whole array of events. People needed to be seated and dinner had to be served. Cas was able to sit beside Dean at dinner, which was a very nice surprise, considering he didn’t actually know anyone else besides the family. He still hadn’t even caught the Maid of Honor’s name, and at this point felt embarrassed to ask.

The dinner was delicious, as was the cake. Speeches were made by the father of the bride, the Maid of Honor and Dean, as the Best Man. During his speech, Dean was funny, charming and even sweet and sentimental. The amount of pride and emotion in his voice at times proved just how much he cared for his little brother. The love and admiration in Sam’s eyes as he watched Dean give the more meaningful parts of his speech showed he cared just as much for Dean. Cas caught sight of Jess dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief once or twice, when she wasn’t laughing at his jokes.

After the speeches were done and the plates were all cleared, a local band set up and played some popular songs, both fast and slow. Sam took Jess out onto the dance floor for their first dance together, and everyone watched, before joining in. Now was the time that Dean hung back from all the festivities and just sat at the table with Cas.

“What a night!” Dean said as he slouched down in his seat. He had taken his uniform jacket off and hung it on the back of the chair. Cas remained in his full regalia.

“You don’t want to dance?” Cas turned to face him.

“Nah, let them dance. I’ve been on my feet all day.”

“You poor man,” Cas smirked at him.

“I am! My feet ache in these shoes. I miss my combat boots.”

Cas laughed. “Tenderfoot. I spent a lifetime training to stand through long functions in uncomfortable shoes. This is nothing.”

“Well, yeah, you’ve been sitting the whole time.” Dean playfully punched Cas’s shoulder.

“A technicality...” Cas waved him off. Then a young woman walked up to their table, pulled out a chair and plopped down in it unceremoniously. She took a similarly slouched position to Dean and looked over at him.

“Hey Dean, when are you going to introduce me to this tall drink of water.”

“You’re an independent woman, I thought you’d just introduce yourself.”

The girl scoffed. “Excuse me, I am a lady!” She nudged a chair with her dainty shoe and then set both feet upon it, crossed at the ankles in a most unlady-like fashion.

“Would I be right in assuming that you’re Jo?” Cas asked, raising a brow at her.

She grinned broadly and leaned forward to reach out and offer her hand. “You would be right. Jo Harvelle.”

“Castiel Novak, but everyone just calls me Cas.” He leaned in and shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Finally?” She looked over at Dean as she took her hand back. “You been talkin’ about me?”

Dean shrugged.

Jo returned her gaze to Cas. “Everything he said is a lie.”

“That’s a shame,” Cas frowned. “He made you sound like a truly interesting woman, someone I had quite wanted to meet.”

“Oh, well, in that case, it’s all true. Except the parts where Dean makes himself sound good. Those are probably lies.”

Dean kicked her chair but she just flashed a toothy grin at him and said nothing.

“In any case, I told Dean a few stories about my sister, Anna, and he said she reminded him of you. I certainly see a resemblance.”

“Your sister must be a fantastic woman, then. Is she here?”

“My sister is sharp; you two would get along, but sadly, she lives in Illinois.”

“Darn, that’s a shame. Now that Jess has gone and gotten herself hitched, I’m going to need a new partner in crime. Dean-o here is never home, so he’s out.” She thumbed in his direction.

Cas had to stifle a laugh at Jo referring to Dean as ‘Dean-o’. Luckily, he and Anna often played the game of trying to make one another laugh at inappropriate times and he was quite good at holding such things in. “That’s a crying shame.”

“Yeah, so now I’ve either got to get my own self hitched...” She made a face as if she were gagging. “Or find some other way to occupy my free time while Jess is busy doing whatever wives do.”

“I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for news reports of a wayward girl on a crime spree in Kansas City or Topeka,” Dean teased.

“You joke, but it’s a real possibility. Never know what I’ll do without my moral compass around.” Jo looked over at Jess and pouted.

“Ah, admit it, you’re happy for her,” Dean’s voice softened slightly.

“Yeah, of course I am.” She looked back at Dean, “I’m just sad for myself.”

“We’ll be sure to throw you a pity party after this. How does that sound?”

“Sounds perfect!” Jo laughed and then look at Cas once again. “So what is your sister up to in Illinois?”

“She’s going to university right now. Studying so that she can do just about anything besides being a housewife.”

“I like her already,” Jo grinned. “So she’s younger than you?”

“Yes, my little sister. If she could, she would probably join the Navy as well, but only if she could fly. She has no interest in being a secretary, really.”

“Not a whole lot of options for us, there.”

“No, but I think she hopes to change that somehow.”

“I wish her the very best of luck!” Jo said, and sounded quite honest about it. “If she ever does, tell Dean to tell me.”

“I will.” Cas smiled.

“Wait, when did I become a messenger here?” Dean piped up.

“Since you’re the only way I can contact him, knucklehead. Come on, keep up, Winchester.” Jo threw a balled napkin at him, but he batted it away quite easily.

“Alright, fine, whatever. I’ll pass along whatever messages you want,” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Thank you,” Jo raised her shoulders and smiled broadly at Dean.

Cas chuckled at the whole exchange. “I need to find some way for you and Anna to meet. Although I would also be a little frightened of the two of you together.”

“Frightened how?” Jo tilted her head to the side.

“Because you’re both so alike that I think it would be intimidating.”

Her smile shifted to a smirk. “I like the sound of that.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” Dean said, then cast a worried glance at Cas. “Maybe we shouldn’t let them meet.”

“I don’t think I could stop my sister from doing what she wants... She would probably just borrow one of Father’s planes and fly here herself if I tried.”

“She knows how to fly?” Jo asked.

“Yes, our father taught us both how.”

“That’s it, I’m catching the next train to Chicago and tracking your sister down. She’s going to teach me to fly.” Jo set her fist down on the table in quite the decisive manner. “Then we’re going to walk straight into the Navy recruitment office and insist that they take us both.”

“Shit, Cas, we’ve created a monster!” Dean looked over at Cas with comical fear in his eyes. Or, perhaps it was true fear, Cas wasn’t entirely certain.

“Damn right,” Jo beamed.

“Ellen’s gonna wring my neck.” Dean put his head in his hands.

“Ellen?” Cas tipped his head.

Dean and Jo answered simultaneously that Ellen was Jo’s mother.

“Ohh...” Cas lifted a hand to scratch the back of his head, then glanced around nervously. “She isn’t here, is she? She doesn’t know who I am, does she?”

“I could introduce you,” Jo supplied, in a most helpful tone.

“No, that won’t be necessary. Best if she doesn’t know who I am at all.”

“Yeah, I’ll say...” Dean nodded in agreement and Jo laughed at the both of them.

Cas was truly enjoying himself around Jo and Dean. They seemed so much like siblings, but in a manner different from Sam and Dean. Above all, the pair were very easy to be around, and that comforting camaraderie was contagious. It reminded Cas of the atmosphere he shared with his squadron.

The three of them remained at the table together, talking and commenting on the reception for most of the evening, until it was time for the wedded couple to say their goodbyes and drive off. Their car had been decorated with cans attached to strings and a sign of painted cardboard that read “Just Married” on the back. Cas had never seen that sort of thing in person before, only in the cinema. The weddings he typically went to were much more reserved than this one.

As guests started leaving, Dean had to help his family clean up the reception hall, pack up decorations, cards and gifts to return to the house. Cas helped, despite Mary’s insistence that, as a guest, he didn’t need to. Once everything was put away into the car, John and Mary drove home, but Dean and Cas decided to walk back. It was a nice night and the house wasn’t far from the hall.

“That was fun,” Cas said as they strolled side by side.

“Yeah, it was, wasn’t it,” Dean nodded, pursing his lips. “I haven’t been to many weddings.”

“I have...” Cas sighed. “Most of them are quite boring and stuffy. This one was more like a celebration.”

“Huh. I would have thought fancy weddings were all extravagant.”

“Well, they are, but in a truly, mind-numbingly boring way. With rather tasty food. This wedding had spirit, personality. Everyone was made to feel like family.”

“I guess there are some perks to small town weddings.”

“Certainly. I know I wouldn’t be the man I am today if I hadn’t been given all the opportunities or had a different upbringing... but in a lot of ways, I envy the life and family you have here.”

“Well, it ain’t all sunshine and roses,” Dean reminded him. “But I think I get what you’re saying.”

“I wouldn’t mind living in a town like Lawrence... maybe after I leave the Navy. Or whenever I buy a place of my own to call home. Nowhere has felt truly like home before, except when I’m with Anna.”

Dean nodded, but didn’t speak. When Cas looked over to see his face in the dim light of the street lamps, his expression seemed thoughtful. He wanted to ask what Dean was thinking, but decided to just wait for him to be ready. After they walked a little over a block, Dean spoke up.

“I guess Lawrence has always felt like home to me... I don’t know if I want to live all my life here, though. I guess I haven’t spent much time thinking about the future, you know? Just have to get through each day and see where the wind takes you.”

“True,” Cas nodded and considered that for a moment. “I’ve lived in so many places now... Naval bases are as close to home as where I grew up. Or the _Ranger_. But there’s no promise that my next assignment will be the same ship or a new one. Sometimes they change us around... and that certainly isn’t a long-term home.”

Dean laughed in a gentle sort of way. “Yeah, I don’t think a ship can be considered home, unless you owned it or something.”

“Or were the captain, maybe.”

“Like a pirate captain, eh Errol Flynn?” He tossed a cheeky grin in Cas’s direction.

“En garde!” Cas struck a pose and mimed fighting with a sword the way Errol Flynn might.

“Hey, you’re about to move to an island, right?”

Cas straightened and started walking again. “Hawaii, yes... But I think there were historically more pirates in the Bahamas, which is where I recently left.”

“Yeah, but you were only in the waters, not on the island.”

“Where do you think the pirates sailed?” Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean.

“Well, okay, right, but they aren’t out there now, that was in the 1700s or something. Don’t they have pirate forts or something on the islands.”

“Maybe... As you said, I was only in the water... and the air above the water.”

Dean shivered involuntarily.

“Are you cold?”

“What? Oh, no. Just the thought of flying over the ocean. How do you do it?”

“Years of practice,” Cas shrugged. “I’ve never crashed a plane before. I’ve had to eject once, outside of training, and it wasn’t so terrible. I told you, I’m an excellent swimmer.”

“Yeah, well, you better be...” Dean was frowning now, Cas could see it on his face and hear it in his voice.

“What’s the matter?”

“Just... be safe, you know. Out there... You’ve gotta take care of yourself.”

Cas blinked, a bit taken aback by this sudden seriousness from Dean. He could hear honest concern in that request and began wondering just how often Dean worried about his safety. He reached out and set a hand on Dean’s shoulder, stopping him on their walk for a moment. “I will, Dean. I’m always careful. And besides, I see very little action.”

Dean couldn’t quite meet his gaze. “All the same.”

“Hey,” he patted Dean on the back of the shoulder. “You don’t have to worry, I’ll be back to my boring training soon. Nothing happens there.” Cas chuckled, just for good measure and to try and lighten the mood that suddenly befell Dean. Maybe the man returned Cas’s feelings more than he knew.

“Well, don’t die of boredom, either.” Dean looked at Cas finally, wearing a lopsided grin, back to his usual charismatic self.

Cas laughed again, “I can’t make any promises there.” He squeezed Dean’s shoulder, then let his hand fall away.

As if chasing that contact, Dean bumped his shoulder into Cas’s while they continued walking down the street. “When do you leave?”

“Late Monday morning. It’s a long ride to California from here and Hawaii is a long way off the coast, as well.”

“Well, you can always write to me from the train.” For a brief moment, Dean reached out and took Cas’s hand, giving it a little squeeze, before letting go, just in case someone spotted them. Cas barely had time to squeeze Dean’s hand back before he lost contact. The gesture was understood, all the same.

Cas turned his head towards Dean and leaned over just a little so he could speak softly. “I’ll miss you, too.”

Dean chewed his lip and gave a small nod. They both fell silent after that. The silence was filled with all the unspoken words they both had for each other. The things they weren’t allowed to say or were too scared to say. In some ways, not being allowed to be open about their feelings for one another made avoiding difficult declarations easier. If Cas wasn’t allowed to say he loved Dean, he didn’t have to worry about whether Dean would say it back.

He wondered it, nonetheless. He did love Dean, and he wondered if Dean loved him. Perhaps Dean wondered the same thing of Cas; he certainly never said the words out loud to the younger man. As far as gestures and expressions and the way they touched one another could be trusted, Cas thought it was possible that their feelings for each other were the same. He wouldn’t know for sure until either of them found the words to say it.

Maybe one day. Maybe one day the world would be different, maybe one day they could hold hands in public or be the happy couple getting married. Maybe one day they didn’t have to fear for their jobs and careers and lives just to say three small words to each other.

Maybe one day, but that day was not today.

So they walked in silence, returned home in silence, and made their way to Dean’s bedroom in silence.

There, they quietly undressed, climbed into Dean’s small bed and held one another, trading kisses that were more honest than any of their words could ever be.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I love all your comments! A lot of times, when I've felt so uninspired to write, your comments have pushed me forward. Even the short ones can make all the difference in the world. You guys, as my readers and supporters, are as much a reason this fic exists as I am. 
> 
> Also, if you want to see updates about this fic, excerpts, music and fanart, you can follow the fic's blog at http://angels-and-ammo.tumblr.com -- Thanks guys! <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, you aren't imagining it, this fic DID actually update. Believe me, I'm probably as surprised by it as you are. I know it's been 13 months since the last update and I'm so terribly sorry. Life kind of took a turn and writing got left behind, in basically all ways. I haven't written in ages; but I had a day off yesterday and so I woke up with the intention of finally finishing this chapter and by the end of the day, I had done so. I hope you all enjoy it. Feel free to curse me out in the comments, I'm sure I deserve it. 
> 
> If you're reading this at all, I love and adore you. Thank you for sticking with me. With any luck, I'll get back into writing and have another chapter for you within a few months.

**_2 June, 1941_ **

As the sun rose Monday morning, Dean laid in bed with Cas snug against his side. He tightened his arms around the pilot and tipped his head down into the soft mess of Cas’s hair. Cas nuzzled into the crook of Dean’s neck, kissing his collarbone. These last few days, falling asleep with Cas every night and waking up with him every morning, was something Dean didn’t want to end. But Cas was leaving today, regardless of what Dean wanted. Both of them had stations to return to and they had to wake up from this dream eventually.

“So this is it, huh?” Dean murmured into Cas’s hair.

“It?” Cas brushed his nose along Dean’s neck.

“You leave today...” He tried his best to keep the emotion light in those words.

“Mmm.” Cas took a deep breath and sighed it out. “I do. But this isn’t it. There will be other occasions. We will plan more visits later. Anna still insists on meeting you. She claims she needs to give her approval of you, since Mother and Father cannot.”

That brought a soft chuckle out of Dean. “You said that when she puts her mind to something, she usually accomplishes it, right?”

“Absolutely.” Cas smiled, lifting himself up on one arm so he could look down at Dean. He cupped a hand to Dean’s cheek. “We will see each other again.” Without giving Dean a chance to reply, Cas leaned down and kissed him. It was the kind of kiss that pushed him back into the bed, cut off all protests and seemed to make the words Cas just spoke into a promise. Sealed with a kiss.

Dean let it wash over him, he laid on his back with Cas above him and wrapped arms around the pilot’s waist. Somehow everything about Cas felt pure, kind and phenomenally reassuring. Dean didn’t even know where this anxiety came from, maybe the fact that everything was going so well, maybe because Cas was going very far away. Getting to Chicago, Dean could do. Hawaii? He had no idea where to even begin. This felt like it might be the last time they would be together for a long while. Who knew how long Cas would be stuck training new kids?

He wound his arms a little tighter around Cas’s waist, kissed him back a little harder. When the kiss broke, Dean’s eyes were still closed and he buried his face in the other man’s neck, feeling like a helpless child. He couldn’t shake the feeling and didn’t want to deal with it. He just wanted to keep holding onto Cas, like that would somehow work.

Cas kissed his temple. “I’m here, Dean.”

His chest felt tight and Dean thought this is what love must feel like. Real love. Not a crush, not some romp in the hay. Actual love. The idea that he was truly in love with Cas was somehow even more daunting than the anxiety about Cas leaving today, and both of them fed into one another. He wanted to speak, but couldn’t find the words and wasn’t sure his voice would cooperate with him even if he knew what to say. They stayed that way for what felt like minutes, but could have been no time at all.

Finally, Cas pulled back and looked down at Dean. His warm blue eyes were too much, and Dean had to look down, focusing instead on Cas’s jaw. He felt a hand touch his cheek, fingertips brushed his lips. He kissed those fingers, then managed a smile at himself for such a gesture.

“Cas, I...” He looked up to the other man’s eyes then and when he saw the expression there, words failed him again.

“Me too, Dean,” Cas whispered back, a warm smile on his lips. Then they kissed again, a simultaneous decision, saving both of them from finding any more words. It was a soft, gentle kind of kiss that mirrored the words neither of them could say.

Dean sighed as their lips parted and Cas laid down beside him. Both men turned onto their sides to face one another and they let their hands explore, touching cheek and forehead, shoulder, neck and chest. They trailed up sides and back down over arms. Smiles remained on their lips all the while. The moment was truly perfect, and Dean hoped it could last them for the months they would spend apart.

 

After memorizing each other in for as long as they could, the men finally got out of bed. They couldn’t stop touching each other when they were getting dressed and ready, though. Everything was a bump on the shoulder or a pat on the ass or an arm about the waist. Dean would kiss Cas’s cheek or Cas would kiss the back of Dean’s shoulder. They were both being ridiculous, but Dean kind of loved it. He idly wondered if, maybe one day down the line, they lived together, this might be how they would act. Disgustingly domestic. Dean was surprised by how much he liked that idea.

He looked over at Cas and saw that the man was mostly dressed now, but his tie was askew. Dean stood before him and fixed the tie, tightening the knot and straightening the front of it. “There.”  

“Thank you,” Cas kissed his cheek and smiled. Dean wondered if he was as amused by how domestic they were being.

“I’m going to be so spoiled when I have to go back to the barracks.” He combed his fingers through Cas’ hair, straightening it a bit. “I won’t get to wake up next to a gorgeous guy anymore.”

“I’m sure Benny and Ash would be quite upset to know you think them ugly.” Cas frowned.

Dean laughed and shook his head. “You know what I mean. ...Although, now that you mention it, Benny isn’t too bad to look at.”

Cas glared at him and gave him a punch on the shoulder, which made Dean laugh all the more. He wrapped his arms around Cas’s shoulders and hugged him tightly.

“Nah, Benny’s already taken. He’s head over heels for a gal named Andrea. And I’m taken, too. By a fantastic guy named Cas.”

“Good.” Cas nodded and kissed Dean. Then he paused and looked momentarily confused. “Dean...”

“...Yeah?”

“I just remembered something I meant to ask you. It’s probably silly, but I wondered. You wrote in a letter once that you were an ass, but you never explained what you meant.”

Dean tipped his head and really had to think about that for a minute. There were any number of reasons why he was an ass, but when did he tell Cas that?

“It was while I was on the _Ranger_ and we were having difficulties sending letters, because the timing was off,” Cas prompted. “Sometime in early Spring, I think.”

“Ohhhh.” It dawned on Dean suddenly then. That time felt like eons ago. “Yeah, I remember now... Uhm, I felt like an ass because I was taking too long to respond to your letters. I was being really dumb and...” He thought Cas’s feelings were waning at that time, not because of anything Cas had done, so much as his own insecurity. “I think I just imagined you being there like, ‘come on, Dean, where the hell are you?’ and I felt like a jerk.”

Cas looked relieved and smiled. He chuckled a little. “That does not make you an ass. Any time I’m on a ship, correspondences are going to be difficult. Getting letters from you certainly brightens my day and I do miss them when they’re gone, but I don’t fault you for taking your time to reply. I’ve learned a lot about patience when living life aboard a ship. Nothing is ever delivered quickly.”

“Yeah, I think you wondered if I meant I was an ass because of something to do with Tessa, right? That girl I danced with on my birthday?” Dean smirked. “Were you a little jealous?”

“N-No!” Cas shook his head, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t know what you meant. It didn’t make sense to me that you were an ass just for not replying to letters right away. I thought maybe you stepped on her toes or hurt her feelings something...” Cas looked away.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh. He wasn’t used to seeing Cas flustered and it was a great sight to behold. He wrapped both arms around Cas’s hips and pulled him into a loose hug. “You’re kinda cute when you blush.”

“I’m not blushing,” Cas frowned deeply.

Dean laughed again, “Uh-huh.”

While trying to hold the frown, Cas’s eyes shifted to look at Dean, as if peeking at him. He finally gave up and cracked a smile. “Anyway, no more of you thinking of yourself as bad for something so small.”

“I’ll try.” He kissed Cas’s forehead.

“Good. Now I suppose we should maybe head downstairs...”

Dean took a deep breath. The end of their time together was drawing ever closer. “Yeah, guess so... Mom will want to say goodbye and all.”

“This may be our last chance to have a proper goodbye kiss,” Cas said, looking more somber now, all of the playfulness was gone.

“Damn, I didn’t think of that,” Dean frowned. In that moment, he truly hated that he couldn’t kiss Cas goodbye at the bus stop. People might see.

Cas took the lead, bringing a hand to the side of Dean’s neck and stepping closer to him. Their bodies pressed together and Cas closed his eyes before tilting his head, closing the distance between their lips. Dean’s arms were still around Cas’s hips, but he tightened his hold now as their lips met. It was a closed-mouth kiss that still managed to hold all the emotion of a deeper kiss, like a kiss at a wedding. Except this wasn’t a new beginning, it was goodbye for now. A to-be-continued ending. Dean held Cas tighter still and Cas’s hand moved up to hold the back of Dean’s head, cradling it.

He was going to miss this.

The kiss had to end eventually and they pulled back from each other just enough to look into each other’s eyes.

“I think blue might be my favorite color...” Dean said quietly and Cas smiled.

“I’m rather fond of green, myself.”

“I guess we have to let go now.” Dean didn’t move a muscle, neither did Cas, but he sighed.

“I’ll write to you on the train.”

“I’ll write to you from the base.” It felt as if the moment was slowly slipping away from them.

“We need to come up with a code...” Cas smiled. “So we can say things to each other without getting into trouble.”

“Can’t be too good a code, though, or else they’ll think we’re spies,” Dean chuckled. “We’ve done pretty well so far, though, I think.”

“I certainly mean more when I sign my letters ‘yours’ or ‘your friend’,” Cas admitted, tipping his head down.

Dean couldn’t help but smile, hearing that. He always assumed it was true, but it was nice to hear all the same. “Yeah, me too...”

“If I talk about Errol Flynn, I’m probably thinking about how great you look.”

Cas laughed and shook his head. “I’m not nearly as attractive as him. He’s a movie star.”

“You’re better.” Dean kissed Cas’s lips briefly.

“If you insist.”

“I do insist.” Cas glanced away, it was fun making him shy like this. “So what else?”

“Hmm,” the pilot glanced around the room for ideas. His eyes landed on the bed. “If I say anything about missing a good bed...” He turned those blue eyes up to meet Dean’s, “It means I miss the activities we do in the bed.”

“So sex,” Dean said, his way was much more succinct. It made Cas laugh.

“Yes, I mean sex. I miss having sex with you,” his voice dropped to a whisper.

“Then expect me to lament my bed at home for about a month’s worth of letters.” Dean smirked at Cas.

“Only a month?” Cas raised an eyebrow and Dean started coughing. Cas was always physically forward, but it was unexpected whenever he was verbally forward.

“Yeah, okay, we have to talk about something else or else I’m never going to be able to leave this room...”

Now it was Cas’s turn to smirk at Dean. Then his expression softened as he came up with his next idea. “Any talk of being homesick... Missing Lawrence or Chicago, or missing the mainland, anything with the exception of saying I miss Anna, means I miss you. I’m truly going to miss you.”

“Yeah... Me too.” Dean ran a hand through Cas’s hair, relishing the feel of soft locks one more time. Cas tipped his head into that touch and sighed. They embraced once more, one more long, last hug before finally giving in to the passage of time. “Alright... let’s go,” Dean said with a sigh.

They went downstairs where they met Mary and John sitting at the breakfast table. John was reading a newspaper and Mary was writing something down that Dean assumed was a grocery list. Sam was still gone on his honeymoon with Jess. As they entered the kitchen, Mary looked up at them both and smiled.

“Are you boys heading out?” She set her pen down and pushed the pad of paper aside. John folded down his newspaper.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “Gonna walk Cas to the busstop and probably hang around there until it comes.”

“It’s been real nice to meet you, Cas,” John said, surprising Dean a little. He stood to shake Cas’s hand.

“Very nice to meet you, as well, sir,” Cas said. “And thank you both for letting me stay in your home. I’ve felt very welcomed by your whole family.”

Mary walked around the table to give Cas a hug, “Well, any good friend of Dean’s is a good friend of ours! I’m glad you were able to stay with us for so long.”

Cas squeezed Mary in a hug and then leaned back to smile at her. “Me too! It’s been a very welcome break from ships and training. I couldn’t imagine a better way to spend my time. The wedding was lovely, your cooking is great, I’ve felt as if I was at home! Probably more so than at my actual home.” He chuckled.

“Oh no, I’m sure that’s not the case,” Mary waved off that last comment.

Cas just smiled and shook his head, “Nonetheless, your hospitality is unsurpassable.”

“Well, you come back any time you like, Cas. We would love to have you.” She gave him another hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I wish you safe travels and good students. And Dean,” She turned her sights on her son now. “You keep us informed of how Cas is doing. I’d like to know.”

“Alright, mom,” Dean said with a laugh.

“You take care, sweetheart.” Mary stepped away from Cas to let him go now.

“You too, Mrs. Winchester. Thank you again for everything.” Cas said the last part to both Mary and John.

“Good luck, son,” John said, surprising Dean further. He had always been the type to call people son, but not usually people he had known for such a short period of time. Cas must have made a good impression.

“Thanks,” Cas said, hauling his bag up onto a shoulder. He turned to Dean, “Ready to go?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Dean sighed, then gestured to the door. Cas shared one last goodbye with Dean’s parents, then they left. Once outside, he gave Cas a friendly punch on the shoulder. “I think my parents like you.”

“That’s good, right?” Cas asked, looking over at him with a grin.

“Yeah, and I shouldn’t be surprised, I guess. You’ve got the whole polite guest thing going that impresses Mom and the good soldier thing going for Dad.”

Cas chuckled, “Don’t discount the fact that their son is rather fond of me.”

“Well, that might work with Mom, less so with Dad.” They began their walk down to the bus stop. Dean set a slow pace so as not to rush the last of their time together.

“I really like your mom,” Cas’s voice went a little wistful and Dean wondered if the unspoken part of that sentence was that he liked her better than his own mother. “I hope we get to visit again.”

“I’m sure you will if you come back to Lawrence again.”

Cas nodded and they walked on quietly for a few blocks, just enjoying each other’s company. One thing Dean loved about being with Cas was that the silence could be so comfortable between them. It never felt like they needed to fill it with pointless words.

They finally reached the bus stop, which was just a bench on the side of the road near a signpost marking it as a stop. No one else was there, so Cas set his bag down and sat on the bench. Dean joined him, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles. They both sighed, then looked at each other.

“So...” Dean started, not knowing where he was going with his statement.

“Mm,” Cas nodded. “When do you go back to the base?”

“Tomorrow. So if you write any letters on the train, go ahead and send them there.” Dean clasped his hands together and rested them on his stomach. If he didn’t, he would end up touching Cas.

“I will do that. If you reply to my letters, don’t send them straight away. It will probably take me a long time to get to the base and I don’t know what their mail system is like. I’ll send you one from the base when I get there.”

“Alright, it’s a plan.” There was a pause. “So are you looking forward to Hawaii? The tropical climate?”

“Kind of... I’m sure it will be very culturally interesting, being there. Weather is weather, when you grow up in Illinois, you just deal with whatever you get most of the time.” Cas shrugged, indifferent. “Are you looking forward to anything coming up in your training?”

“Eh, it’s all the same after a while. Sometimes we get new guns to train on or learn new tactics. The guns are cool, but I enjoy the tactics stuff. It’s interesting.”

“I bet you have a good head for tactics,” Cas smiled and bumped his shoulder. Cas’s confidence in his intelligence still took Dean aback, because he wasn’t used to it. He had a hard time convincing himself that he was anything but brawn over brains, but Cas seemed to think it without any hesitation. Maybe that was the sign of how much Cas liked him, they did say love is blind.

“I guess we’ll see. I’m not moving up in rank any time soon, I don’t think,” Dean shrugged.

“You never know, Dean. Things like that do happen,” Cas turned to look at him, earnestness in his expression.

“Yeah, alright Lieutenant Novak,” Dean rolled his eyes, trying to get Cas to drop the subject. He made the pilot laugh, though, after he said his full title. “Anyway...”

“Anyway,” Cas repeated. He leaned back on the bench until their shoulders were pressed together. It probably looked casual enough that they could get away with it. “Did you ever see that film _Shall We Dance_ from a few years ago?”

“Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers?” When Cas nodded, Dean thought about it. “Yeah, I think so. Why?”

“There’s this song Fred Astaire sings, ‘They Can’t Take That Away From Me’, and I keep thinking about it lately.”

Dean smiled, it had been a while since they sent each other songs, since Cas couldn’t very well go down to the record store while he was on the ship. “I think I know that one, they played it on the radio a lot when it came out.”

“I like it. Because in the film, everything Fred and Ginger did together...” He hesitated before continuing, “when they were falling in love, the way that he fell in love with her, when she sang off key or how she held her knife, or the way they danced til three... No one could take that away from them. No matter what happened.”

Dean listened closely to what Cas was saying, and he thought he understood the message. “Yeah, yeah, I kinda like that. So, the way I sing off key, the way you steal my hat, the way we ... talk til three,” Dean smirked at Cas, who smiled back. “No one can take that away from us, huh?”

Cas nodded, shoulder still firmly pressed against Dean’s. “Exactly.”

“So does that mean you’re Fred and I’m Ginger?”

Cas started laughing, “I suppose it does.”

“How is it that you get to be both Errol Flynn and Fred Astaire? Who do I get to be?” Dean wanted to come off as sounding annoyed, but there was too much happiness in this moment for it to be effective.

“You aren’t happy being Ginger Rogers?” Cas couldn’t keep the laughter at bay as he spoke. Dean gave him a deadpan stare. “Alright, how about Gene Kelly? Or Humphrey Bogart?” Cas grinned as he came up with the last one, clearly pleased with himself.

Dean took a moment to think about it. “Gene Kelly is more attractive than Humphrey...”

“But Humphrey Bogart is suave like you. So you can be Gene Kelly and Humphrey Bogart. I can be Errol Flynn and Fred Astaire.”

“Hey wait,” Dean sat up a little straighter. “Don’t forget Ginger.”

Cas laughed and the look on his face was exactly what Dean wanted to see. He was happy, relaxed and amused, this was the Cas that Dean wanted to remember before they parted ways. “How could I forget Ginger? Oh! No, Dean, I’ve got the perfect answer...”

Dean blinked and then laughed, it was fun to see Cas so excited, “Alright, who?”

“Cary Grant,” Cas said simply.

“Cary Grant,” Dean repeated, a smile on his face. That’s the one. I get to be Cary Grant.”

“So when they make a film about our lives, it will star Fred Astaire and Cary Grant.”

“That’s a film I would definitely watch,” Dean laughed, then wondered a bit about the idea of Fred Astaire and Cary Grant kissing in a romantic scene at the end of the movie. He shook his head. “No doubt about it.”

Cas sighed, “Me too.”

“Guess we need to become war heroes or something for that to happen,” Dean scoffed.

“Or something,” Cas leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder for the briefest moment before straightening up again. Dean had to resist the urge to wrap an arm around the man beside him.

They fell silent then, both lost in their own thoughts, whether those were of Cary and Fred kissing or the desire to have something they couldn’t.

“I’ll miss you,” Cas said quietly, just as the bus turned around the corner. They both looked over at it, then back to each other.

“Yeah,” Dean said, feeling his chest get tight as the bus neared. “I’m gonna miss you, too, Cas.”

Cas squeezed Dean’s hand and looked into his eyes. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t really need to. Then, all at once, it was over. Cas stood up and shouldered his bag. Dean followed and as the bus slowed to a stop, he wrapped his arms around the other man. Cas returned the hug and they patted each other’s backs in a fraternal manner. As they pulled apart, Dean shook Cas’s hand. “Take care of yourself, buddy.”

Cas smiled in a playful way that was all his own, “I will. You too, Dean.”

And just like that, he climbed onto the bus. Dean watched through the windows as he moved down the aisle and found a seat, on the side that faced the street, of course. Dean waved to him and Cas made a gesture that Dean swore was him blowing a kiss. It made Dean laugh, because it was so cheesy, but it was the best they could do in lieu of an actual kiss, he figured.

The bus pulled away and Dean watched it until it was out of sight. Then he heaved a sigh and started the lonely walk back to his house. He knew the visit couldn’t last forever, but Dean had been living in a kind of denial up until that moment. In a couple days he would be back at Ft Bragg and reality would fully set in. At least they had their letters.

* * *

 

**_5 June, 1941_ **

_Dear Dean,_

_I’m writing to you from the train. If I can find somewhere to mail it from on one of the stops, I will. This ride is immensely boring. I’ve read some of the book that Anna recommended to me, but it hasn’t caught my interest yet. Watching the scenery pass by my window can be interesting, but for when everything looks the same for hours on end. America is so very large. I wonder how train conductors must feel. They do this every day..._

_I fear that my letter is as boring as my journey. On to other subjects. I was very pleased to attend Sam and Jessica’s wedding. They are both such lovely people. As is your mother. Please thank her and John for me again for their hospitality. It was so kind of your entire family to welcome me in so warmly. My own parents likely would have had an extra place set at dinner, then proceeded to ignore us during all other times of day. They would put on a good show in a guest’s presence, but then fail to be any more welcoming than that. I preferred our stay at your home much more. And if you meet Anna, it will surely be somewhere other than my parents’ home._

_Boring and grumpy, what is wrong with me? By the time you read this, you will be back at the base, as that’s where I’m mailing it to. I suppose you can start replying right away, if you please, but if you send your responses to Hickam Field, they may arrive there before I do. I don’t actually know how that works. Can letters be transported to Hawaii faster than people? I suppose they would if you send it by airmail. Planes are so much faster, Dean. I would rather ship myself via airmail than keep riding this train. I think I’m going stir crazy. This is a new and terrible feeling. Terribly boring. Anyway, I will include the base’s mailing address in the post script for your future reference. I’m not sure I have much else of interest to say in this letter. Which won’t likely stop me from writing another in a few days time._

_Here are some quick fire facts: I have done the daily crossword in every newspaper I have gotten my hands on. I will do another after this letter is concluded. In 3 of the last 5 crosswords, one of the answers has been the word “ARIA.” They must like all the vowels in it. I’m also terrible at crossword puzzles. Never admit this to my sister. The mountains of Colorado are gorgeous. They have been the one pleasant thing to look at through my window. I dread traveling through the desert. Surely, it is the one place more boring than farmland. I miss Lawrence already. Especially the company there. I miss the bed I slept on, too. I know that I regularly sleep on a naval ship, but train beds are somehow worse to me. And the bed I stayed in at your house was simply divine. There is no comparison. I leave you with this fact._

_Always your friend,_

_Cas_

* * *

 

**_9 June, 1941_ **

_Dean,_

_Updates: Utah, half boring. Nevada, all boring. Why are these states so wide? I’ve befriended a few people on the train, mostly passing conversation. Apparently Las Vegas, a city in Nevada, has been growing up into quite the little casino town. One of the passengers said that as we road through Nevada that he wished we could stop in Las Vegas to see this new casino that opened in April. I’ve never been one for gambling. Not with money, at any rate, I’ve taken a few gambles in my plane, I suppose, but that’s part of being a pilot. Have you ever been to a casino? I’ve been dragged along to one by the boys in my squad, but I don’t find them very interesting. Are you even old enough to have been to a casino? I know, it’s rude to tease you when you can’t reply to my letters yet. Believe me, if I could get to Hawaii any faster, I would. At least California is a narrow state. After the train, it’s a ship, then the Naval Base. Hickam Field. My new home for some amount of time._

_I’m getting better at crosswords. Anna’s recommended book picked up in the middle, but now I’ve finished it and have nothing else to read, except the newspaper. The sports page is probably the most entertainment I’ve had in days. I don’t even care for sports, but I may become a baseball fan if I had to ride on trains forever. Our Chicago Cubs have not been doing so hot, but did you know they have a pitcher named Dizzy Dean? It seems our White Sox are doing better. They have a left fielder named Moose. Moose Solters. How do you suppose he got that nickname? Perhaps he’s very tall? I’ve seen a moose before, on a trip my family took to Canada. There is really no way to describe how very large they are. You just have to see them to understand._

_I think I wrote in my last letter that I was going stir crazy. I am writing to you about baseball, moose and casinos. You decide. Anna would be making fun of me if I sent her letters like this, but I’ve been writing to her about the book she had me read. Don’t tell her I’ve become mildly interested in sports. I would never hear the end of it. If I could listen to music, this might be better. Do you suppose one day they will find a way that we could take music with us? I know, hauling around a phonograph is ridiculous. And how would you power it?_

_Before this letter turns into science fiction or I start contemplating Superman, perhaps I should sign my name and drop it in the first mailbox I come across. Then pick up the latest issue of Action Comics, because I think I would read anything if I must spend one more day on this train. At least we are nearly to the coast. My next letter will likely be from Hawaii._

_Your mind-numbingly bored best friend,_

_Cas_

* * *

 

**_16 June, 1941_ **

_Dean,_

_This letter may be a bit confused, because I will have written it over the course of a few days. It just makes more sense to write it all into one letter and send it, rather than several short letters. On a whim, I purchased a few Action Comics when we made our last stop in California. They aren’t bad. A bit silly, but I like Superman in general. Did you know he’s an alien? I hadn’t realized that. Batman is alright, too. Not an alien, just a very rich man. I will be boarding the ship for Hawaii tomorrow. Or, for you, that means in the next paragraph. -C_

_I’m on the water again! It isn’t the same as being on the_ Ranger _with my squad, but at least it’s not that train. My cabin is a traveler’s cabin, so it’s actually better than the one I’m used to. I don’t even have to share with anyone. I can’t remember the last time I was on a commercial ship and not a naval ship. After getting settled and learning the traveler’s version of Muster, I watched us set sail, then explored the ship a bit. It’s far simpler in layout than an aircraft carrier. Though after a full day aboard, I realized that life as a passenger and not a pilot is also much simpler. I think I might grow bored again. At least I have my comic books, and a ship is less claustrophobic than the train. Open air makes a world of difference. -C_

_I just looked over this letter and is it terribly odd that I’ve signed my initial at the end of each entry? It seemed to make sense at the time. It was the close of the ‘letter’ in a manner of speaking, but now it looks bizarre. At any rate, I’m on the island! Hawaii is simply beautiful. I’ll see if I can find a postcard to send you with a picture. It won’t do the real thing justice, but it may give you an idea. I wish you could see it. Then you would properly know how jealous to be of my surroundings. How are the summers in North Carolina? I hear they are awful. (Yes, I understand what a terrible friend I am being right now. Let me revel. I’ve paid my dues in Illinois winters.)_

_So I have learned a few things about Hawaii. You may know it’s a series of islands, they call the largest one The Island of Hawaii, but they mostly just call it the Big Island. Hickam Field is on another island called Honolulu. That’s where I am. It’s north of the Big Island. Just about everything around me is naval base, and I’m right on the coast of the Pacific Ocean, Mamala Bay, and an inlet harbor called Pearl Harbor. There is a peninsula called Waipi’O across the way and a little island in the middle of the harbor, Ford Island.  I’ll be spending my time around all of these areas, I suppose. I think this is the first time I’ll be surrounded by so much water while on dry land. I’ll meet my trainees early next week -- which I suppose will be this week, by the time you get this letter. Cross your fingers for me that they are good students!_

_I look forward to finally being able to hear back from you. Consult my return-address for where to send your reply. I have one more weekend before the work starts and I think I’ll spend it walking around, seeing the sights. I would go to the cinema, but there aren’t any Cary Grant films showing. Have I told you he’s my favorite actor? I know you prefer Errol Flynn or Fred Astaire._

_Your island dweller friend,_

_Cas_

* * *

 

**_23 June, 1941_ **

_Cas,_

_This is going to be a long one! I loved getting all your letters about your travels. You made it sound like someone was attempting to torture you with boredom and small spaces. I took you to have a stronger constitution than that. Guess I was mistaken! How did you ever survive? At least baseball and Superman were there to rescue you. (If Anna can’t poke fun at you, I’ll have to do it for her. It might earn me some good marks with her.) Let me see if I can answer all of your questions._

_Yes, I think letters may be traveling faster than you, since you sent them by airmail. For me, personally? I would rather go slow and survive than fly. I know, I know, you say flying is fine, I’ll stick to the ground. Thank you for the facts about crossword puzzles. I had to go look up the word “aria” in a dictionary, so that I’ll know it, if I find myself stuck on a crossword clue._

_You said you missed the bed you stayed in at my house while you were on the train. Well, I’m back at Ft Bragg and I also miss my bed at home. Sharing a barracks with a bunch of other guys, half of them snoring, and no privacy? Ah, army life. I wouldn’t trade these guys, but I would like another night at home._

_I don’t know why the states out west are so wide. Probably because they’re empty? I’m sure one of your history books from prep school could tell you why. I haven’t heard of this Las Vegas place before, but yes, I am old enough to have been to a casino, thank you very much. I’ve gone once and it was fun enough. I prefer playing cards with the guys or shooting pool at a local bar, though. I’ll challenge you to a game of pool one day._

_I’m glad you’re still invested in your hometown baseball team while you’re so far from  home. Dizzy Dean doesn’t sound like a great name for a pitcher. Unless he’s making the batters dizzy, I guess. Did you ever figure out how Moose got his name? Maybe I’ll start calling Sam a moose, since he’s getting so tall. Also, maybe you should give me Anna’s address, so I can write to her about your new found interest in sports and comic books. I did know Superman was an alien. How did you not know that? He’s from the planet Krypton and that’s where all his strength and speed come from._

_Though, I’ve gotta admit, I kind of had to ask Benny what Muster was, because I hadn’t ever heard that, except the phrase “pass muster” -- I figured it was a boat thing, and he knows boats. So that makes us even, I guess. I knew Superman was an alien and you know about sailing safety procedures. Also, I’m glad you’re enjoying Hawaii so much. Let me tell you about summers in North Carolina, they’re hot and sweaty and why can’t the army train on islands with the navy? I mean, yeah, there’s that whole land vs water defense thing. Maybe I should get transferred to California somehow._

_Hope you had a good time seeing the sights on your weekend off. How are your students? Aces in the making? And yes, I did know Cary Grant was your favorite actor. He’s a pretty good pick, but no one has moves like Fred Astaire._

_Yours,_

_Dean_

* * *

 

**_17 October, 1941_ **

Summer fell into Autumn as Dean and Cas continued to send letters back and forth. The world outside grew ever tenser, as the hands of war started to reach the states. An oil embargo set by the United States against aggressive powers in August, financially affecting Japan, was followed by Leningrad being cut off by Finnish armies in September. A German u-boat fired on the _USS Greer_ , the first attack on an American warship. US neutrality in the war became all the more tenuous. President Roosevelt ordered Navy to protect convoys, telling them to shoot on sight if a ship or convoy is threatened. By the end of September, the US Naval Command ordered an all out war on any Axis ship in American waters.

Cas grew more and more concerned each day that the inevitability of war was drawing nearer. The moment he heard that the Naval Command’s orders to attack Axis ships, he knew it was practically here already. The United States may not have declared war yet, but it was anything but neutral anymore. The position the armed forces and government held on the matter made that clear as the water on Hawaii’s beaches. He could feel that it was coming soon. All it would take was something to push the country over the edge into aggressive battle, not just defensive.

Then it happened. News of the attack spread through Hickam so quickly that everyone knew by nightfall. The _USS Kearney_ was struck by a torpedo near Iceland. Eleven sailors died, marking them as the first American casualties of the war. Eleven men, on a ship far from home in the North Atlantic. The _Kearney_ was only damaged, not sunk, but it was a blow that hit every naval man across the country. Their brothers had fallen, and they were just the first. How many more would perish once war was officially declared?

He wrote to Dean and Anna that night -- he even wrote to his parents -- sending the letters off first thing the next morning. Things were going to get worse, more likely sooner than later.

* * *

 

**_23 October, 1941_ **

_Ft Bragg, North Carolina_

Dean smiled when he received Cas’s letter, but that smile slowly faded as he read the words written in it.

_My Dear Friend Dean,_

_I don’t know whether you’ve heard the news yet. I’m not sure how naval news spreads through the army, but an American ship was damaged near Iceland, the_ USS Kearney _. Eleven sailors died. There are already orders to attack enemy ships in American waters. I’m afraid our involvement in the war is closer than any of us knew. I can’t say if it will be days, weeks or months, but I can see it coming. What I can’t see is what will become of all of us, all of us who signed up to serve our country. I can give you my word that I will train every student I have to fight with the best of his ability. I will fight to the best of mine and defend everyone around me. I have faith in you, too, Dean, that should you find yourself on the field of battle, you will fire true and keep yourself alive out there._

_I openly admit that I am afraid. What I teach my students is what many good men have said before me: Courage is not the absence of fear, but the strength to do what needs to be done in spite of that fear._

_In the meantime, all we can do is be sure that those we love know that we love them and be ready when we are called to action._

_Always,_

_Cas_

 

Dean blinked. His heart was racing, and not just because Cas alluded to loving him. Now it raced at the thought of going to war, at the fear of what would happen to Cas, to Benny or Ash, to himself, when they were out there.

“Cas thinks we’re going to war...” Dean spoke quietly, but knew that Ash and Benny would hear him if they were listening.

A rustling of paper came from the bunk above, then Ash poked his head down. “Well, we kinda figured that we would. But what spurred this statement?”

Dean looked up at Ash, then over at Benny, who had been reading a book at the time. His book was held open against his chest as the big bear of a man looked back at Dean. “A US ship was attacked near Iceland. Eleven guys died.”

“Damn...” Benny shook his head.

“And apparently there are orders to shoot any ships in American waters. I guess since before the boat got hit.”

“Ship,” Benny corrected, and Dean glared at him.

“Ship, whatever. Guys, I think this thing is closer than we thought.”

“Cas is probably right.” Ash said, sighing. “If they’re openly attacking our guys out there, they aren’t going to stop. Those boys are probably lucky that only eleven of them died.” The three of them sat quietly in the realization that Ash’s morbid statement was likely true. Ash broke the silence after a minute. “Question is, how many of ‘em are gonna die before we actively fight back, not just defensively, but offensively?”

None of them had an answer. Whatever the number was, it was going to be too many.

* * *

 

**_31 October, 1941_ **

_Hickam Field, Hawaii_

It was Halloween, a few decorations had been set up around Hickam, some fake cobwebs and carved pumpkins. Someone had decorated the mess hall with paper bats and spiders, and the chefs had gotten creative with the dinner menu. It was all the same stuff as usual, but with spookier names. Because Halloween fell on a Friday, horror films were scheduled to be showed that night and a lot of the men on base had plans to go to parties. Even Cas was going to attend one that some of his favorite students had invited him to.

Unfortunately, all the festivities of the day were marred by more bad news. They weren’t going to get out of October without another casualty of war. Near Iceland again, another US destroyer was attacked, the _USS Reuben James_ was struck by a torpedo. The ship sank, killing 100 of the sailors aboard, only 44 enlisted men survived. The news was released on the base early that morning and no one really felt much like celebrating.

“Lieutenant Novak?” A voice broke Cas from his thoughts. He was sitting outside on his lunch break, without much of an appetite. He looked up to see one of his students standing above him.

“Cadet Bass.... Aaron. What can I do for you?”

“May I sit with you?” Aaron gestured to the open spot at the picnic table across from Cas. “I don’t really feel like eating lunch.”

“Me either.” Cas gestured, “Sit.”

They sat there quietly for a long time, watching the movements around the base and the sun shining off the water in the harbor. It was peaceful, despite the news of the day. An ever-present breeze off the coast ruffled the leaves of the few trees and snapped the fabric of the many flags. The sky was blue, the air was clean, the temperature was comfortable; by all accounts, it was a beautiful day. Yet no one was particularly happy that day.

“Are you doing alright?” Cas turned to look at Aaron, who was a good student, one of the young men to invite him out to celebrate Halloween.

Aaron took a deep breath, “I guess. Iceland is so far away...” He seemed at a loss for what to say exactly.

“Iceland, Australia or right next door, it feels closer to home when you know your fellow men died out there. Sailors or pilots, we are all in this together.”

“Yeah. The sailors seem especially down in the dumps today. Some guys are real keyed up, though. I think they want to go to war.”

Cas hummed and nodded. “We signed up to fight for a reason, cadet.”

“Yeah. I know. And I’ll fight too when I have to, but who wants to go fight?”

“Everyone deals with these emotions differently. Some people move past grief quickly and immediately turn to anger. The need for vengeance, or the desire to stop the enemy before they kill any more of our friends.”

“What are you feeling right now, Lieutenant?”

Cas drew in a slow breath, then sighed it out just as slowly. “A great number of things. I know it is as important as ever that I train you kids to fly and fight well. I fear how soon we will declare war, I would not be surprised if it was early as next month.” He paused for a moment, then looked right at Aaron. “And a part of me wishes my squadron will be called into the field again, sooner than later. It’s difficult to sit idly when I know I’m prepared to go out and fight. We all have our orders...”

“If you’re training us, you’re not being idle,” Aaron’s voice turned up a bit at the end of his sentence. Cas could tell he was trying to show him a silver lining in some way.

He laughed silently and offered the cadet a smile. “Perhaps, but I suppose I’m more like those other cadets who want to go out into battle. The only difference is that I already know what I’m doing out there, and they still need training.”

Aaron fidgeted, looking for words, “I worry about my mom.”

“Your mom will be safe,” Cas was confused by this.

“No,” Aaron chuckled. “I know she’ll be safe... but I worry about her worrying about me. If I go out there and get hurt or... or worse.”

“Ahh, yes. The people we love will always worry about our safety, just as we worry about theirs. But we have to be the ones fighting to make sure they stay safe. And your mother will be proud of you for fighting.”

“Yeah, guess so.” Aaron looked out across the base again, then sighed and returned his attention to Cas. “Thanks Lieutenant.”

“Think nothing of it.”

While November started with great tension after the attack on the _USS Reuben James_ , the fears that war would be declared sometime within the month started to wane slightly as time passed. Cas returned to training his cadets, though with renewed dedication to making sure they were as prepared as possible. He knew the war still loomed over America, but perhaps they were given a bit more time than he thought. He still hadn’t been called back to his squadron, which was still off duty, likely for the rest of the holiday season. Cas wouldn’t be going home for Thanksgiving, though Dean was able to visit his family.

The Winchester household was a pleasant place to be during the festive times of year. Full of food and laughter and love. Any time John attempted to talk of war, Mary would chide him and the house would be safe from fears of what was to come in the future. None of the Winchesters, nor the Novaks, knew any of the details of the attempted talks America was having with Japan. The Japanese ambassador to America was delivering proposals to the government, regarding removal of Japanese troops in parts of Asia in exchange for supplies of oil and other materials. The families didn’t know that American intelligence departments had received intel that Japan had no intention of removing their troops from Indochina and was planning to invade Thailand.

Negotiations were over. Any proposal offered by Japan was declined. The Japanese government had set a deadline for November 29th and if nothing was settled by then, things were going to happen. The government knew that war was imminent, and they would be drawn into battle within a matter of days. An attack by Japan was assumed, but no one knew where or when it would happen.

No one in the United States knew that 33 warships were already leaving Japan, heading straight for the Hawaiian Islands.

* * *

 

**_7 December, 1941_ **

_Pearl Harbor, Hawaii_

Sunday mornings were a time for relaxing. Cas waited until sunrise to wake up and get out of bed, but once he was up, his training wouldn’t let him dawdle too much. He dressed and left his dormitory to take a jog around the base. It was a collection of buildings, roads and landing strips, but the view out into the harbor wasn’t terrible. Winter in Hawaii was unbelievable, even in December, most days were as warm as a summer day back home. He jogged as the sun rose over the island, heading towards the hangars as his end goal.

His cadets were given the mornings off on Sundays, but on occasion they would come by for extra practice with more challenging maneuvers. Castiel checked his watch as the hangar came into view. It was quarter to 8, giving him enough time to visit with some of the other higher ranking flight instructors on base. Slowing to a walk, he turned his eyes towards the sky, then over to the West, looking in the direction of the Pacific Ocean. A strange sound caught his attention and seized his breath. There were planes all around the base, but none of them were flying or even taking off, but he heard engines moving in from the West. Soon, he saw them in the sky, heading directly for Ford Island, only they weren’t American fighters.

Dark planes with circles painted on the sides meant they were unmistakably Japanese. Bombers, Cas recognized immediately. Everything moved in slow motion and too fast at the same time. They were attacking the naval base. It was the first attack on American soil, the thing no one expected but everyone was waiting for. Pilots and sailors were staring at the sky in disbelief as the first shots were fired on the base. Ford Island was just across a small strip of water, barely a quarter mile from Hickam Field. As the bombs were dropped on the battleships, Castiel swore he could feel the shockwave of the explosions.

Officers began shouting orders and people began running. Putting emotions aside, Castiel took off sprinting the rest of the way towards the hangar. The explosions became more intense, the sound of gunfire filling the air, destroying the peace of the morning Cas had woken up to. There had to have been nearly a hundred Japanese planes attacking the base and he knew that the battleships and destroyers docked at Ford Island had probably been sunk. As Cas tried to find a calm center somewhere deep inside himself, he sent a prayer of thanks to Heaven that nearly all of the aircraft carriers were out at sea. If they had been sunk along with the rest of the fleet, it would have gravely crippled the Navy’s strongest force.

At the hangar, Cas found the highest ranking officer he could to get orders. Everyone was running and though he knew they were trying not to panic, there was an air of fear surrounding everyone. Castiel would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit to being afraid, but he ignored it as best he could. A Commander just outside the hangar was shouting and pointing, ordering people around.

“Lieutenant!” The Commander shouted at Cas and several other pilots surrounding him. “Take them and get those planes into the air! Shoot those Japs down before they can do any more damage. And don’t forget, they’re probably all suicide bombers! Move! Move! Move!”

Castiel saluted and shouted for the lower ranking pilots to follow him. They ran straight for the hanger. Overhead, a second wave of planes came in from the Japanese carriers, different than the bombers from the first wave attacking Ford Island. Cas spotted the distinctive landing gear that didn’t retract, as well as it’s odd shape, and held out his arms to try and stop the pilots running with him.

“Those are Vals! Dive bombers!” He shouted, grabbing the sleeve of the nearest pilot to pull him back. “Take cover!”

Just as he expected, the Vals swooped down, dropping bombs on the hangars. The explosions were immediate as planes blew up. Castiel and his pilots were blown back, thrown by the force of the blast. Flames exploded from the hangar and the world went bizarrely quiet, like Castiel’s ears were filled with cotton, moments before he slammed into the tarmac and the world went black.

* * *

 

**_7 December, 1941_ **

_Ft Bragg, North Carolina_

Dean was out on the training field doing the morning routines. The soldiers started the morning jogging at daybreak and a few hours later, they were running through reps of pushups, jumping jacks, and situps. Drill Sergeants shouted at their soldiers, counting and calling orders. It was cold and rainy, but the workout kept the men warm enough. By late morning, the loudspeaker mounted on the side of the building blared to life and the Sergeants called their men to stop and listen for the announcement. Dean caught his breath and glanced over at Benny with question in his eyes.

Benny shrugged and shook his head, having no idea what could be going on. Nearby, they spotted Ash, who looked concerned, a serious frown on his lips. Right away, Dean felt fear grip his heart and a pit formed in his stomach. He suddenly had a terrible feeling.

When the Colonel was done calling attention, in a grave voice he made an announcement. “At approximately 0800 this morning, Japanese bombers attacked the Pearl Harbor Naval Base in Hawaii. The attack lasted until approximately 1000. 18 ships have been sunk or otherwise destroyed and the casualties number in the thousands, with hundreds more wounded. Hundreds of aircraft were destroyed or damaged, however the Navy’s aircraft carriers were at sea at the time of attack and were thus spared. Tomorrow, President Roosevelt will meet with a Joint Session of Congress. It is presumed that, at that time, The President will make a statement on the United States standpoint on entering the war. We will keep the families of those lost at Pearl Harbor in our thoughts and prayers and may God help us all.”

The speaker clicked off and a deafening silence remained in its place. Dean felt as though the ground had been pulled out from under him. His entire world spun and he barely recognized what he was doing when he turned to look at Benny. His friend wore an expression of anguish, with a deep pity in his pale blue eyes. Dean had no concept of what he must look like. Everything around him seemed to vanish in a fog, distantly he heard people complaining about the Japanese, staking claims for revenge, but the words that stuck in Dean’s head, repeating over and over, were “Pearl Harbor Naval Base” and “casualties number in the thousands.”

Benny’s accented voice cut through it all, he was speaking to the drill sergeant, asking about the soldiers being excused from training, out of respect of anyone who might have friends or family in Hawaii. Dean didn’t hear the response, but he felt Benny’s hand on his back, urging him back towards the barracks. Someone, he didn’t know who, asked, “You okay, soldier?”

Dean absently nodded, “Yeah, fine.” He didn’t remember getting back to his bunk or even sitting down on the side of his bed. All he knew was that he was there, sitting with his arms on his knees, staring at the ground.

“Your friend was there, wasn’t he?” Benny asked.

“Cas.” Dean nodded.

“Ya’ll were close.”

Unblinking, Dean nodded again, slowly. “Best friends.” More. More than best friends. Boyfriends. More than boyfriends. More than lovers. But Dean was giving automatic, trained responses.

“He might still be alright, brother. There’s still hope for him. You always make friends with the smartest folks, so he’s gotta be smart, too. Smart guys, they’re survivors. He’s gonna be okay. You’ll see.”

When Dean nodded this time, he said nothing. In his mind, he repeated words that would become his mantra.

_Cas can’t be dead. Cas can’t be dead. Cas can’t be dead._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic is not over. There's more story to come. Please don't kill me. But please do comment with all your thoughts and emotions and hatred for me. Thank you, again, for reading and sticking with me. I really do love you all for it.


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